


Our Last Summer

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cancer, Character Death, Chemotherapy, Community: deancasbigbang, DCBB, DCBB 2014, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2014, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lung Cancer, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Suicidal Thoughts, Vomiting as a side effect of chemo, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2524478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As children, Dean and Castiel had a wonderful friendship that eventually blossomed into something more when they became teenagers. Through a series of unfortunate circumstances they were separated and thought they would never see each other again. Twenty years later they find each other at a cancer support group for terminally ill patients. With no cure in sight they embark on an emotional journey together, determined to make up for the time they lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time participating in the Dean/Castiel Big Bang and certainly not my last. It has been quite a journey, but I've loved every second of this wild ride. 
> 
> I need to thank [Keira](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pieandsouffles/pseuds/pieandsouffles) for being such an awesome beta and a great friend. Also, thanks to [Em](http://pumpkabookiss.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing this fic as well and encouraging me. Thank you to you both for all your advice and motivation, I wouldn't have been able to do this without you guys.
> 
> I also need to thank [Julia](http://jadamsja.tumblr.com) for reading this fic from its infancy and essentially holding my hand while I wrote this. Thank you for laughing and crying with me, and taking part in this experience. You're the best. 
> 
> My wonderful artist, [Pooja](http://winchesterpooja.livejournal.com) created beautiful art for this fic that had me crying when she sent me the drafts, go check it out [here!](http://winchesterpooja.livejournal.com/22320.html).
> 
> I also have a [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8fq_k6Oyu5F4IfibzYo83wOVgy2BwAVZ) of all the music I listened to while writing this fic. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

_In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun._

_—The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller_

May 10, 1989 San Francisco, California

A small pamphlet folded into fourths sits in the left pocket of a tan trench coat. The edges of the paper are permanently dog-eared and the folds are prominent, incapable of being rubbed out. Castiel Novak dips his hand into the deep pocket of his trench coat; fingers digging around until they grasp the brochure, pulling it out. He carefully unfolds the thin paper, placing the brochure against his thigh in an attempt to smooth out the multitude of wrinkles that cover the page. Castiel takes the paper gingerly with the pads of his fingers and brings it up near his face, his eyes darting back and forth as he reads the words printed there, _UCSF Cancer Center Support Group! Come join us every Wednesday at 1 p.m. We’re here to help you!_ He refolds the pamphlet with a huff and places it back within his pocket.

Castiel glances out at the San Francisco Bay from the window of his taxi. The sun dances across the surface of the rolling waves, the moving water capturing the sun’s rays and reflecting back like thousands of sparkling diamonds. He has the window rolled down a few inches and the briny air feels refreshing in the stuffiness of the cab. Castiel loves days like this – when the bay area isn’t clouded by a dense fog – allowing him to see the edge of the Pacific Ocean off in the distance while crossing over the Golden Gate Bridge. This is part of the reason why he moved to San Francisco in the first place. The extreme beauty of the area and acceptance of his lifestyle convinced him to stay here after graduating college. It was a perfect fit.

The taxi leaves the iconic bridge and enters the city. Castiel’s driver swerves in and out of traffic, passing slower cars, trying to find the quickest route to the hospital. A bubble of nervousness rises in Castiel’s stomach and feels like he might be sick; considering he had a dosage of chemotherapy last week, nausea is a possibility.

On January 4, 1989 at the young age of thirty-six years old, Castiel Novak was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer and given less than a year to live.

He remembers the day so vividly. Everything had happened so suddenly the week before he was diagnosed. His breathing had begun to feel labored and he found himself coughing more than usual. Even walking up a flight of stairs would cause him to become breathless, which wasn’t normal for him – he was in good shape for a thirty-six year old man. However, since Cas used to smoke when he was younger, he figured he should probably go in for a check-up to make sure everything was okay. After a basic check-up and no progress to find the reason for the sudden change in his breathing, his doctor suggested he have a lung biopsy done. 

_“Mr. Novak, the biopsy results came back and… I have some bad news.”_

_Castiel’s doctor leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands together in front of him on the wooden desk. Castiel gulped thickly, gripping his thighs with shaky hands to steady himself._

_“What did they say?”_

_His doctor sighed heavily and Castiel’s heart jumped into his throat._

_“You have a small malignant tumor in your right lung. We don’t know how far the cancer has spread yet, but hopefully it is contained to your lungs. We can get you into a CT scan today to find out how far the cancer has spread, if at all. However, the results may take a few days to process.”_

_Castiel nodded slowly, eyes staring blankly down at the grey carpet beneath his feet. His stomach felt tight, constricting in and out, and his pulse thudded against his neck. Cancer, he has cancer._

_"_ _I understand,” Castiel had said, but he didn’t, he didn’t understand._

_Cancer isn’t supposed to happen to young, healthy middle-aged men. Cancer is supposed to happen when you’re old and frail and your immune system is too weak to take care of you._

_Cancer wasn’t supposed to happen to him._

The CT scan took place later that day and the doctor came into the waiting room with his results a few hours later. They had found the cancer too late: the CT scan showed that not only had the cancer found its way into Cas’s lungs, but the disease had already spread to multiple places in his body. He had Stage IV lung cancer and virtually no chance of surviving. Chemotherapy would help, the experts said, but surgery was pointless, the cancer had already spread. At first the chemo did help, shrinking the size of the tumor in his lung significantly. After about two months of treatment, tumor reduction slowed to a glacial pace. The doctors continued chemo, the therapy might prolong his life expectancy longer than the ten month time frame he was given when diagnosed.

Cas closes his eyes, blocking out the unpleasant memories and tries not to think about the fact that this is his life. Bi-weekly trips to the hospital for check-ups or if his coughing worsens, or he feels something different and worrisome. Then of course the weekly chemo treatments that make him feel like he’s dying with more effectiveness than does the disease raging within his body. Cancer is physically and emotionally draining. Some days he doesn’t feel like getting out of bed, not always because he can’t; granted, sometimes he is in so much pain that he physically cannot get out of bed, but sometimes he doesn’t see the point in even trying anymore. Why bother getting up and looking presentable when he is going to be dead by the end of the year?

Last week after witnessing another one of his emotional breakdowns, his older sister Anna told him that he needed more support from someone other than just her. He needed to talk to someone about what he was going through emotionally who understood. Anna is a wonderful sister, taking care of him in his final months, driving him to appointments and making sure he is comfortable in every way possible, but she can’t do everything. She tries to understand his mindset, how he is feeling, how useless he feels, and though she tries, she can’t. Anna would only be able to understand if she went through this. Castiel knows she feels bad for telling him that he needs extra help, but he understands. She just wants him to have a little bit of happiness in his last few months and to not continue wallowing in his own misery. So here he is, on his way to the first meeting of his cancer support group. Maybe Anna is right, this could be a new start for him. He could make some friends, share chemotherapy horror stories, and maybe help each other get through this. That would be nice.

The taxi pulls into the roundabout, bumping against the curb and stopping in front of the sliding doors of the hospital. Castiel hands the driver a wad of cash with a “thank you” and a smile. He pushes open the side door, dragging his oxygen tank out with him and lugging it away from the car. He shoves the door shut and waves at the driver, who pulls away and out into traffic. Castiel turns and raises his eyes to the multi-storied building in front of him. He takes in a shaky breath through the oxygen tubes in his nose. It can’t be that bad. The least he can do is try, if not for himself then at least for Anna. He walks forward as confidently as he can, tugging the oxygen tank behind him. The sliding doors part for him when he gets close enough to the entrance and he heads over to the informational desk. A lady with black-rimmed glasses and pristine curls pulled up into a bun looks up at him with a grin.

“Hello, how can I help you?” She asks pleasantly and Castiel clears his throat, hoping that his lungs do not choose now as a good time to seize up and not work.

“I’m looking for the one o’clock cancer support group,” Castiel states plainly and much to his dismay, the lady nods at him sympathetically.

“Ah, yes. Well, if you walk down the hallway to the left of you, the meeting will be held in the third room on the right,” she replies, motioning from behind the counter in the direction of the room.

“Thank you,” Castiel answers with a thin, forced smile, turning away from the desk and heading towards where she pointed.

As he heads down the hallway his heart begins to beat quickly, the nervousness in his stomach returning. He wants to turn around and run back the other way, forget he ever came here or that this was a good idea in the first place, but he suppresses the urge and continues on. He rounds the corner and enters the room. It’s fairly empty, there are only a few other people there, milling about and chatting casually with each other around a circular set-up of a dozen chairs. Castiel chooses one at random, sitting down and setting his oxygen tank next to him in the empty space between his chair and the one next to it. He glances around at the people in the room with him. A couple have oxygen tanks like him, others look completely normal and he wonders if maybe they were recently diagnosed or haven’t started chemotherapy yet. He feels uncomfortable and slightly out of place with no one to talk to, but he doesn’t want to start a conversation and bond with anyone until he figures out if he wants to come back. There’s no point in making friends if he’s never going to see them again.

The room starts to fill-up with more people who begin to follow Castiel’s example and sit in the circle of chairs. He glances down at the plain, black watch wrapped around his wrist, 12:57, three minutes until the meeting is supposed to start. A young woman with long, pretty blonde hair sits next to him. He gives her a polite smile and she holds out her hand for him to shake.

“I’m Jo, nice to meet you,” She says with a happy smile. He takes her hand and shakes it twice.

“Hello. I’m Castiel, nice to meet you as well,” Castiel replies politely. She seems friendly, maybe this won’t be so hard.

“Whataya have?” She asks casually, fixing him with a smile that seems a little out of place for the question being asked.

“Stage Four Lung Cancer,” He replies, awkwardly crossing his hands in his lap. He doesn’t like talking about his disease, it makes him feel unclean.

Jo pats his shoulder, “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, most of us in here are all in the same boat. We may not have the same type of cancer but we’re all Stage Four, all headed to the grave in x amount of months, kinda dreary if you think about it.”

“Kind of dreary?”

Jo huffs a laugh, “Yeah, okay _really_ dreary, but it’s not like we can’t do anything. The group has an outing each month to places in San Francisco. You should come next month, it’s fun and takes your mind off what’s happening.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

A man around his own age sits next to him and introduces himself as Uriel.

“Hey,” Uriel says after a pause, “What do you call a bear with no teeth?”

Castiel squints at him, tilting his head to the side in confusion, “I don’t know, what?”

Uriel grins, “A gummy bear!”

Castiel snorts, shaking his head at the ridiculous joke. Though, he’s got to admit, Uriel did drag a smile out of him, which is rare nowadays. Castiel could definitely grow to like him as well.

He makes small talk with both Jo and Uriel until their group leader arrives. The man is tall and scruffy, he looks almost like the kind of guy who would come to one of these meetings riding a motorcycle. He sits down at the head of the circle and motions toward someone at the door behind Castiel to come in. The door shuts with a click and Castiel turns his attention to the group leader as he introduces himself.

“Hello! I’m Benny Lafitte and I am going to be your group leader. I have been in remission from Lymphoma for two years. The purpose of this group is to talk about your experiences with cancer, how it has affected your life and realize that you are not alone in this,” Benny states with a genuine smile and everyone in the circle starts to clap. Castiel follows their example, though albeit reluctantly.

“I think we should start off by going around and introducing ourselves. How about you start?” Benny asks the woman next to him who smiles up at him. Benny has that typical southern drawl that seems out of place in San Francisco, but his voice is calming and Castiel likes it. His smooth tone eases the nerves that are fluttering around in Castiel’s belly.

Everyone begins to move around the circle introducing themselves and what kind of cancer they have and what stage they are at. Castiel looks around the circle at everyone as they introduce themselves. The first woman to introduce herself is named Pamela. She has pretty dark, slightly curly hair and a pleasing smile that lights up her face, even as she announces to the entire circle that she has breast cancer and only two months left to live. She seems happy and Castiel cannot understand how. Maybe she knows something about life that he doesn’t, maybe she still has a purpose that she is fulfilling in her final days. What is there to be happy about when your life has an expiration date?

Castiel’s eyes travel around the large circle of chairs feeling sympathy for those who have balding heads. His own hair will be absent soon, it’s only a matter of time before the chemotherapy takes its toll on his body, taking away some of his good cells as well as his hair. This morning in the shower while he was rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, a handful of short dark strands came out of his head. It was just slightly depressing, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

Castiel continues glancing around the circle, noting the happier members of the group and the ones who, like him appear to be here due to family obligation. His eyes move from a twelve year old girl with pigtails to a man about his own age with emerald green eyes. He freezes, eyes widening in horror.

No. It’s not possible.

Castiel would know those eyes anywhere.

The man sitting across from him looks exactly like Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester, the boy he grew up with from infancy who became his best friend. Dean Winchester, the best friend who turned out to be the love of his life. But that can’t be Dean. Dean shouldn’t be here, Dean can’t be dying. Dean’s _not_ dying.

Twenty years ago Dean and Castiel were two sixteen year olds hopelessly in love with each other, and then Castiel’s older brother Michael found out about their relationship.

_“Castiel, pack your things, we are leaving tomorrow morning.”_

_"_ _But Michael –“_

_"I saw you kissing Dean. It’s wrong, it’s unnatural and I will not let you become an abomination.”_

_“No, you can’t make me leave him.”_

_“You’re sixteen years old, I can do whatever I want. I will find a way to fix you, Castiel.”_

_“There’s nothing to fix! Dean’s my best friend and I’m in love wi-“_

_“I’ve heard enough.”_

Castiel frantically looks over Dean’s face. He takes in the freckles dashed across Dean’s nose and cheeks, strong jawline and sparkling green eyes, the slight crow’s feet. Dean’s appearance may have aged, but he is still _his Dean_. Dean catches Castiel staring at him and the same look of shock etched into Cas’s face is mirrored on Dean’s.

_“I don’t want to leave you,” Castiel said, burying his face against Dean’s chest as tears poured freely down his cheeks, staining Dean’s t-shirt._

_“I know,” Dean murmured, pulling Cas against his chest and pressing a kiss against the top of his head._

_“What are we going to do?” Cas asked, raising his head to look at Dean._

_“I’ll find you, I promise,” Dean swore, eyes flashing fire and truth, “It might take a while, but I promise, one day I’ll find you again.”_

Cas’s heart is racing and he feel like he is going to be sick, _this cannot be happening. Why the fuck is this happening?!_ The two men stare at each other, eyes wide until someone clears their throat and Dean snaps his head toward the noise.

“Did you say something?” He stammers out to Benny and Benny chuckles to himself.

“I said, what’s your name, brother?” Benny asks, giving Dean an encouraging smile.

“Oh…” Dean replies, and turns to look at the entire group, but his eyes automatically fall to Cas.

“My name is Dean Winchester and I have Stage Four Stomach Cancer.” There’s sadness in his eyes and Cas stares back at him, feeling his heart being ripped out of his chest for the second time in his life.

Castiel introduces himself a few minutes later, voice monotone as he says, “My name is Castiel Novak and I have Stage Four Lung Cancer.”

He avoids looking at Dean until after the words have left his mouth. He regrets it immediately. Dean looks so sad, face twisted up in pain and even from across the room Castiel can see unshed tears sparkling in his eyes, threatening to spill onto the brown carpet beneath his feet.

For the rest of the meeting Castiel tries to listen to Benny’s advice about finding reasons to be positive, going out and doing things and taking care of yourself even though your body is fighting you every step of the way. He listens and takes it in subconsciously. His eyes are constantly drawn back to Dean, who he can feel staring at him, gaze hot and intense. Frankly, all Castiel wants to do is run out of the room and never come back, forget that he ever saw Dean and return to living his dull life before Dean came crashing back into it.

He knew going to this meeting was a bad idea.

The moment Benny ends the meeting with a happy grin on his face, telling the group that he wants to see them all back in here next week; Cas rises from his chair, grasping the handle of his oxygen tank and heading out the exit as fast as he possibly can. Castiel wants to get out of there before Dean has a chance to stop him and talk to him. He wants to talk to Dean, he wants to talk to him more than anything, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to let Dean back in, not when he only has four months left to live. That wouldn’t be fair to Dean, no matter how badly he wants to talk to him. Castiel rushes down the hallway, his heart pounding hard within his chest. He feels like he is drowning, that if he stays another minute in the hospital, the walls will cave in and swallow him up. He’s halfway out the sliding glass doors when he hears Dean yell, “Cas, wait!” But he doesn’t stop, even though he hears pattering footsteps closing in on him. He keeps walking until he gets to the curb where a taxi is parked, waiting for him.

Castiel is about to open the back passenger side door when a hand grabs his arm, clinging to him like a lifeline.

“Cas,” Dean says his name, whispered like a prayer, pleading with him to not get into the taxi.

Every instinct telling him to pull away and never look back fails. He slowly backs away from the curb and turns toward Dean, who releases his arm and stares at Cas with a look full of wonder and disbelief.

“Hello Dean,” Cas says softly, raising his eyes to Dean’s. Dean’s eyes are still just as green as they were twenty years ago and it makes Cas’s heart flip within his chest.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says, a tiny sad smile on his face.

They stare at each other, and Cas finds that he doesn’t know what to say. He feels a rush of sorrow and he curses fate and destiny for bringing them back together at the absolute worst time.

“I know this is… really sudden and you probably don’t even wanna see me but, do you wanna go get a coffee or something?” Dean asks, running a nervous hand through his hair, staring at Cas intently. He looks so hopeful that Cas is sure this has to be a dream, he’s going to wake up and none of this will have been real. A car horn honks nearby and Cas realizes that yes, this is in fact real. He gapes at Dean for a few moments before his mind catches up to what Dean asked him.

“Coffee would be nice,” Cas replies with a hesitant smile. Dean grins.

\------

They end up seated across from one another at a quaint café a block down the street from the hospital. The light brown wooden walls surrounding them are covered in small, framed pictures of various landmarks around San Francisco. An espresso maker whirs in the background, and a few other patrons sip coffee or tea near them, reading books and newspapers. It’s a homey place, peaceful and surprisingly not busy; especially for this time of day. Cas is thankful for this though, it gives them a bit of privacy. Dean orders a hot chocolate and a glass of ice water; Cas orders black tea with cream and sugar. The drinks arrive to their table steaming hot in sunflower yellow ceramic mugs. Cas feels nervous, his stomach doing flip-flops inside him. He isn’t sure _why_ he’s nervous, after all this is just Dean. Cas wraps his hands around the mug and stares into the hot liquid, unsure of what to say. What _do_ you say to your best friend who you haven’t seen in twenty years?

Dean is staring at him, green eyes focusing so intently Cas wonders if Dean is trying to see into his mind and dig up all the events of Cas’s life in the past twenty years. He probably is. Dean’s gaze is unsettling and comforting at the same time, he’d forgotten how intense Dean always looked at him.

“How are you?” Dean asks suddenly then realizes he fucked up and backtracks with, “I mean you know… other than…” He trails off, blushing at his slip up.

Cas lips tip into a small smile. _Oh Dean, how I’ve missed you._

“I’m having a good day today. However, this past week was a little rough. What about you? You know, other than…” Cas replies, parroting Dean’s words back to him. Dean huffs out a laugh.

“I’m doing a hell of a lot better than I was this morning,” Dean answers, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a long drink.

“Why is that?” Cas asks. He stirs the light brown liquid in his mug with a spoon, the metal dings against the ceramic.

“Well, seeing you made it a lot better that’s for sure,” Dean replies and his eyes crinkle as a wide grin appears on his face.

Cas smiles, “I didn’t believe it was really you at first. It’s been so long since I saw you, I didn’t trust my own eyes. You’re so much older.”

“But I’m more attractive right?” Dean teases with an obnoxious waggle of his eyebrows that lightens the mood and causes Cas to giggle into his tea.

“Yes Dean, you look like a man now. You’re not a scrawny teenager anymore.”

“Scrawny teenager?! I’m pretty sure _you_ were the scrawny one, Cas,” Dean says and Cas rolls his eyes.

“If I remember correctly, we were _both_ scrawny teenagers,” Cas says seriously. His finger twirls around the edge of his mug, the steam rising and warming the palm of his hand.

It’s funny how they can be separated for twenty years, but manage to talk to each other as if no time has passed.

"Yeah I remember. I also remember you were pretty cute back then,” Dean says, leaning back in his chair with a smirk and Cas can’t help the blush that rises on his cheeks.

“I’ve lost my appeal since then,” Cas states plainly, suddenly becoming extremely subconscious of the oxygen tubes in his nose.

Cas really hates them. Though they give him the ability to breathe and stay alive until his lungs decide to stop working completely, it always feels like there is a finger stuck up his nose. They make him look funny and he can’t go anywhere without anyone asking questions as to why he has an oxygen tank as a thirty-six year old. When he explains he has lung cancer, the looks of pity he receives are enough to make him want to crawl into a cave and never come out again. But for some unimaginable reason, Dean doesn’t seem to mind.

“Nah,” Dean says, eyes twinkling, “I still think you’re pretty cute, even if you are going bald.”

“Even with… _these_?” Cas asks, motioning at his nose to where the tubes are.

Dean smiles, “Yeah, even with the oxygen tubes.”

Castiel feels like a teenager again. This casual flirting and easy-going banter is so similar to what they used to be. Even though they’ve both changed, some things never change. It’s like they’re picking up right where they left off.

“Do you hurt?” Cas asks suddenly, eyes growing wide with concern when Dean places a hand against his stomach, cringing in pain.

“Yeah, just a little bit, but it will pass. I hurt a lot and I get sick often when I eat and it’s not even because of the chemo. I can’t eat hamburgers or pie anymore except for special occasions and you know how much I love those. I’m supposed to eat healthy, sometimes I do, but the doctor said he would rather me just be able to keep anything down than stick to a specific diet,” Dean says, taking a sip of water, swallowing and closing his eyes as it goes down. He lets out a breath and gives Cas a hesitant smile, “I’m better now.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas says genuinely. “I only get nausea the days following a chemo treatment, normally I just have trouble breathing.”

“I think I’d rather puke my guts out than not be able to breathe, isn’t that kinda scary?” Dean asks.

“It is. Twice I’ve woken up in the middle of the night, flailing in bed because I couldn’t breathe and Anna had to rush me to the hospital so they could drain the fluid from my lungs. It doesn’t happen that often, but… yeah it’s scary. I felt like I was going to die.”

“That’s awful. Does the oxygen help much?”

Cas glances over at his oxygen tank sitting next to the table. He has a love-hate relationship with his oxygen tank. He loves the fact that it helps him be able to breathe and _not die_ but most of the time, the contraption is a pain in the ass. He has to lug it around with him everywhere and make sure the tubes stay in his nose at all times. It’s especially difficult sleeping with it. Sometimes he’ll wake up in the mornings with the tubes twisted around his torso so badly that it takes five minutes to untangle himself just so he can get out of bed.

“It keeps me alive,” Cas replies, “Though, I wish I didn’t have to use it at all,” He adds.

“How long they give you?” Dean asks. His eyes are focused on the now empty cup sitting in front of him. Ah, so they’ve reached _this_ part of their conversation. The classic, “how many more months do you have left to live,” question.

“In January when I was diagnosed the doctors gave me ten months, maybe a year if I am lucky. It all depends on how long my lungs decide to hold out,” He’s blunt, maybe _too_ blunt but there’s no use sugarcoating something that’s inevitable.

“I got a nine months, maybe a year and a half,” Dean states gruffly, fidgeting with the cup in his hands.

Neither of them know what to say after that. What else is there to say? They’re two long-lost best friends, no – soul mates who have been separated through unfortunate circumstances for twenty years and most likely both of them will be dead within the year. It’s a bleak outlook and no one in their right mind would want to start something again when there’s no future for their relationship. Yet, despite every instinct telling Cas that this is pointless, a small part of his brain still has hope that maybe even after all these years Dean still loves him.

Cas looks up at Dean and finds the other man staring at him, scanning his face thoughtfully.

“What happened to you, Cas?” Dean asks softly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, after Michael dragged you away from me, where did he take you?”

“You want my life story?” Cas asks, raising a hesitant eyebrow.

“Something like that,” Dean answers with a shrug.

“That would take a _long_ time, Dean.”

“Yeah, well… give me the short version?” He offers it up as a question so Cas can refuse. Cas is tempted, he could walk away now, keep things clearly platonic, tell Dean nothing and just forget this whole thing happened. Or he could tell Dean everything, how much he’s missed him the past twenty years of his life and how no matter how many people he fucked no one could fill the hole left within his heart that only Dean could fill.

“Only if you tell me your story as well,” Cas replies with a smile.

“Promise,” Dean says, making a cross over his chest, his face completely serious, but there’s playfulness in his eyes and Cas laughs. It’s been so long since he’s laughed.

Cas takes a deep breath, mind flipping through snapshot images of the past twenty years of his life, trying to figure out where to start.

“Well… after we moved out of the house, Michael drove west. He wouldn’t talk to me for the first few hours of the drive. I knew he was angry at me for loving you, the glares he gave me in the rearview mirror were clear. I didn’t cry, though I wanted to. I didn’t want him to know he had gotten to me. He wouldn’t tell Anna or I where he was taking us, just that we were going away. We ended up in Sacramento. Michael sent Anna to a private school and me to a boarding school for boys.”

“For boys? I thought he _didn’t_ want you to be gay?” Dean laughs.

“I think he believed the strict curriculum and no sexual conduct rule would “straighten me out,” Cas says making quotation marks in the air with his fingers.

“Well that worked _really_ well,” Dean snorts.

“Clearly,” A beat passes before Cas continues, “After I graduated high school, I was accepted to the University of San Francisco, completely paid for. When everything happened, when I left you, I focused on school instead of my unstable emotional state. I suppose it paid off. The university was happy to welcome such an aspiring student into their marine biology program. However, Michael was less than pleased with my college choice. Not because the university wasn’t prestigious enough, merely because it was the 1970’s and I was going to be moving to the city of “gay love” as he called it, for the next four years. Michael tried to dissuade me from going, but I was out from under his control now. I went and he disowned me. Thankfully, Anna didn’t. She still supports me, even today.”

“Wow, Michael’s a dick,” Dean remarks.

“He is, I’m glad that I don’t have to deal with him anymore.”

After a pause, Dean’s lips twitch up into a grin and he asks, “Remember that time I hit on Anna in ninth grade?”

Cas nods, “I remember being so incredibly jealous and mad at you that I wouldn’t talk to you for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, that kind of gave away your whole big “secret” crush on me,” Dean says with a smirk.

“Good thing you felt the same way,” Cas replies with a soft smile.

Cas has so many good memories of Dean. He remembers as a child, playing with Sam and Dean by the river until they were covered in mud from head to toe, then returning home and being scolded for their carelessness. He remembers throwing a baseball back and forth in the big empty field that bordered the side of Dean’s house in the summer until his skin was red from over-exposure to the sun. He remembers watching movies with Sam and Dean, crowded together on the couch, eating popcorn and candy until three in the morning. One of his fondest memories is when he went on his first date with Dean to the little home-style diner in the middle of town. He’d blushed when Dean reached underneath the table to hold his hand for the first time. Cas can still remember how his heart soared when Dean told him how cute he looked when he smiled. Cas remembers the electricity of their first kiss in the impala when Dean dropped him off later that evening. He knew right then that Dean was it, Dean was _the one._

“What happened when you went to college? Did you meet anyone?” Dean asks cryptically interrupting Cas’s pleasant reminiscence.

Cas fidgets with his hands, eyes darting away from Dean’s. This is a touchy subject for him.

“I… Well… I met people, yes. I made friends. They probably weren’t the best people I could have chosen for friends, but they made me forget all the pain I’d been feeling.” Cas pauses, choosing his words, “There was one person I suppose, her name was Meg and I met her my sophomore year of college. She was wild, different and gave me a taste of a kind of freedom I had never known. I was hooked instantly. I started smoking around this time too, mostly because she did, but I smoked one pack a day maybe two depending on how my mood was. That’s how I ended up in the situation I am in now, lungs filled with cancer and not working properly.”

Cas pauses, chancing to look up at Dean, searching his eyes for some hint of judgment and finding none, only sympathy. Dean is listening to him intently, absorbing every word leaving Cas’s lips, like he’s mentally writing down Cas’s story so he doesn’t forget.

“After Meg there were… A few others. I didn’t love them, Meg was the only one who managed to gain a fraction of my affection. Looking back, I suppose I used them in a way. Whether it was for sex or cigarettes or alcohol, I used them for my own purposes not bothering to take into account their own feelings. It was wrong of me, but I didn’t care at the time. Frankly, I don’t know how I managed to graduate college, those few years were a tough time for me.”

“But you did?” Dean questions and Cas nods.

“I graduated and received a degree in marine biology. I got a job soon after graduating researching crustaceans in the tide pools along the coast and observing the dolphin pods that migrate in and out of the bay. I’ve always loved the ocean, it was a perfect fit for me. And… that’s about it. I’m not very exciting,” Cas says with a chuckle. He clasps his hands in front of him on the table and looks at Dean expectantly.

“Your turn.”

Dean smiles, “I’m not much more exciting. I finished high school and worked at Bobby’s garage full-time until after Sam graduated high school. I wanted to save up enough money so he could go to college. Even though he got a lot of scholarships I’m glad I did, Stanford costs a pretty penny.”

“Stanford?” Cas says in astonishment.

“Stanford.”

“I always knew Sam was smart, but Stanford? That’s a big deal.”

“Hell yeah, I’m so proud of him. After he left Kansas for college I followed him over here, there wasn’t really anywhere else for me to go. I could’ve stayed working for Bobby, but there wasn’t anything left for me there with Sam gone. I know Bobby understood. I still call him at least once a week, just to check up. Anyway, after I moved out here with Sam, I worked at a local garage while going to school at San Jose State University to get my mechanical engineering degree. I didn’t think I could do it; working full time and going to school was hell. Sometimes I barely made ends meet, but I got through. After college I got a job as the head mechanic for some big wig racecar driver. It was pretty fun and I got paid a hell of a lot, but I could only do that for so long. After that job I started my own business designing and creating drag racing cars for famous drivers. I have my own garage and team of mechanics and it’s a damn good living. It’s a little harder now, I get tired easier and can’t do as much. I could quit if I wanted to at any time, I just don’t want to.”

Dean seems like he’s finished, but Cas knows there’s more.

“What about you, did you… meet anyone?” Cas asks curiously.

“Yeah, a few girls, a few guys, nothin’ serious, just casual one nights stands. A couple of years ago I met Lisa. She… she was pretty much perfect in every sense of the word. And I tried, damn did I try so hard to love her. I was with her for a year and it was good, really good, but there was always this itch in the back of my mind. I wasn’t at peace and something was off. I loved her, but I was never _in_ love with her. So that’s it… no one else,” Dean says, but Cas senses there is a double meaning to his closing sentence.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says and Dean shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine, that’s life I guess.”

Silence overtakes them both, neither know what to say. There’s so much Cas wants to say, so much he could say, but now isn’t the time. 

“What’s Sam doing now?” Cas asks, breaking the silence. Dean lights up a little at the mention of Sam, grinning.

“He’s a lawyer, an actual lawyer! He’s also engaged, to this girl he met in college, Jessica Moore. She’s perfect for him, Cas, blonde, full of spunk and gorgeous with a huge heart. They’re getting married this summer at Jess’s family’s vineyard in Napa Valley. I’m so proud of him, I’m glad he’s happy.”

“I’m happy for Sam, he deserves this,” Cas says. He’s glad Sam has the life he’s always wanted. Even as a kid Sam had big dreams of going to an Ivy League school and becoming a lawyer. He worked for this his whole life, he deserves to have all of his dreams come true.

“You know, he’d probably like to see you. After all he was your _second_ best friend,” Dean says with a wink.

“I would love to see him.”

Dean continues talking about Sam for a few minutes and Cas listens with rapt attention. He loves seeing Dean’s face so animated and full of love when talking about his brother. The sparkle in Dean’s eyes and the warmth of his smile reflect how proud he is of Sam. Dean and Sam have always been close, they had a kind of relationship that Cas wishes he could have with his own siblings. He is close to Anna and she is a wonderful sister, but their relationship is nowhere near that of the Winchesters.

During a pause in conversation Dean steals a glance at his wristwatch, eyes widening when he sees what time it is.

“We’ve been talking for two hours,” He says in disbelief.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I should probably head home, Anna might worry,” Cas replies, leaning back in his chair, kneading his bottom lip with his teeth.

The oxygen tank puffs in and out; Cas adjusts the tubes in his nose.

“Did you drive here?” Dean asks.

“No, I took a taxi.”

“Can I drive you home?” Dean offers.

“You don’t have to. I would’ve driven myself I just hate paying for parking in the city,” Cas explains.

“Nah it’s okay, I don’t mind. It’ll be just like old times,” Dean states with a pained smile. Idly, Cas wonders if Dean still has the impala.

Dean stands up, tossing a handful of ones onto the tabletop for their drinks. Cas rises from his chair, grasping the handle of his oxygen tank and follows Dean out of the café. They walk side-by-side, personal space disregarded, their arms brushing against each other every few steps. Cas has the urge to reach over and hold Dean’s hand, to twine their fingers together, but he resists the urge and tries to ignore the tingle that runs down his spine every time their hands or arms touch, even if only for a fraction of a second. The city bustles around them, thousands of people maneuvering their way through crowded, car filled streets, but Cas barely notices. He feels like he’s in a tunnel, everything around him silenced except for Dean.

Dean leads him to a parking garage near the hospital. The impala is parked in one of the first stalls, still in impeccable shape the way Cas remembers her, sleek, dark, and full of muscle.

"You still have baby," Cas muses, stepping forward, reverently running his fingers over her smooth black paint.

He remembers this car very well and all the memories that come with her. The night Dean pressed him up against the hood and kissed him until he couldn’t breathe. A few nights later when they drove out to the river and made love for the first time in the back seat. He still remembers the way their breath steamed up the windows, shy hands exploring each other’s naked bodies for the first time.

"I couldn’t seem to sell her, not after… everything," Dean answers, with a pointed, knowing look towards Cas.

Cas nods. Dean must be replaying the memories in his in his mind as well.

“I’m glad you decided to keep her,” Cas says, pulling open the passenger side door. He sets his oxygen tank inside before sitting down on the plush cushion with a sigh. This car always felt like a second home to him. He spent so much time in her with Dean and the Winchesters. Before John Winchester died, he used to take Cas and the boys out for ice cream at the local Dairy Freeze after dinner. The three boys would cram in the backseat, ice cream dripping onto their hands and jeans, greedily licking the cold treat from their cones. Aside from Cas’s special memories of the impala involving Dean, one of his favorite memories involves Sam too. Cas loved the cool summer evenings where the three boys would sneak out and Dean would drive them to an empty grassy spot in the middle of nowhere, outside the city limits of Lawrence, Kansas. They would all lay on top of the impala’s warm hood and gaze at the sparkling stars above them.

Dean twists the key and the impala rumbles to life. Dean grins, glancing over at Cas who smiles back. They share a look before Dean coughs awkwardly. Glancing away he shifts the impala out of park and reverses, driving towards the exit.

Once Dean merges onto the interstate, he flicks on the radio to a classic rock station. Led Zeppelin blasts over the speakers and out through the open windows. Dean sings along, loudly and badly, but Cas doesn’t mind, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s heard in a long time. When they cross over the Golden Gate Bridge, Cas removes his oxygen tubes for a few seconds, closing his eyes and taking a deep lungful of the salty, bay air. He looks over at Dean. The sun is low in the horizon, highlighting Dean’s silhouette in a golden light. Dean’s smiling at him and Cas feels like a teenager again. He wants to freeze this moment and live here for the rest of eternity, trapped in the warmth of the sun and Dean’s presence.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun is just dipping beneath the horizon when Dean pulls up to the small house Cas shares with Anna in Sausalito. He drives the impala up the short driveway, putting the car into park and looks over at Cas.

“Home sweet home,” Dean announces with a half-hearted smile.

“Thank you.” Cas gives Dean an attempt at a smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. He doesn’t want to say good-bye, but Cas feels like it would be the best for the both of them if they went their separate ways.

Cas pushes the passenger door open, lugging his oxygen tank out of the impala with him. He slowly stands to full height using the top of the metal car to help him; his joints are stiff from the drive. Dean hastily gets out of the car and moves over to Cas’s side of the car, gently taking his arm to help him.

“I’m fine,” Cas mutters quietly, moving past Dean and walking towards the front porch.

Dean walks alongside him, silently; keeping pace with him. Cas can see Dean looking over at him with nervous glances. The walk up the front steps and onto the porch, the light overheard casting a halo atop Cas’s head. Dean touches Cas’s shoulder lightly, turning Cas around to face him.

“I know you probably want to forget you ever saw me today. You probably think that it would be better if we just… went back to how our lives were before. But I don’t want to.”

“Dean,” Cas starts.

Dean holds up his hand, “Le-let me get this out.”

“This morning I was so fucking tired of it all; the treatments, the doctor visits, everything. I was tempted to take a dive off the bridge and just end it all, but I went to that dumb meeting as a last resort and you were there.” Dean scrubs a hand over his face, his voice is shaking now and Cas can feel tears pooling in his eyes. “I saw you sitting across from me and I thought, maybe I could have hope for the first time in a long time.”

Dean pauses, looking at Cas with a longing expression. He bites his lip, holding back the tears shining in his eyes.

“I need you and I think you need me too. We can get through this together, we don’t have to go at this alone. We can fight this, Cas.”

“But I’m going to die,” Cas states plainly and as bluntly as possible. It’s the truth, no matter how much it hurts for the words to leave his lips. He doesn’t want to hurt Dean, he doesn’t want Dean to think that there’s a way he can recover from this disease. There isn’t. Dean huffs out a laugh and a tear slides down his cheek, staining the fabric of his plaid shirt.

“Yeah, well me too so... ” Dean trails off throwing up his hands.

“So?” Cas says in exasperation.

“So what are you doing tomorrow?” Dean asks and Cas stares at him in confusion.

“What?”

“Are you busy tomorrow? Do you have a doctor’s appointment, chemo treatment, anything?”

“No… but I don’t understand, wha-” Cas starts but Dean cuts him off.

“Will you go on a date with me?” Dean asks, grabbing one of Cas’s hands and staring at him intently, patiently waiting for an answer.

Cas’s mouth opens and closes a few times, “What?!”

“Will you go on a date with me?” Dean repeats, he’s smirking now and Cas doesn’t know if he wants to punch him or kiss him.

“Why?” Cas asks and Dean squints at him.

“What do you mean, why?”

“I mean, what’s the point of even trying?”

Dean shrugs, “I wanna make up for lost time?”

Cas is scared. He’s scared of getting this close to Dean again and having the person he loves the most in this world ripped away from him for the second time in his life. He can’t handle that, but despite the fact that one or both of them are going to get hurt, he wants to try. There’s no sense in living if you don’t take chances and Dean is a chance he’s more than willing to take.

“Okay,” Cas agrees, squeezes Dean’s warm hand still wrapped around his, “I’ll go on a date with you.”

Dean grins, one of his shit-eating grins that makes Cas’s heart all fluttery.

“Good. I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow? Is that okay?” Dean asks. He’s still holding Cas’s hand, and it seems like he doesn’t want to let go.

“That’s fine.”

“Okay, good, awesome. I’ll uh… see you tomorrow then,” Dean says, abruptly releasing Cas’s hand and ducking his head shyly.

“Good night, Dean.” Cas is smiling, his grin reaching from ear to ear.

“Night Cas,” Dean says shyly, leaning in and pressing a peck against Cas’s cheek. Dean bounds off the front step, half-running to the impala, waving at Cas, then climbing into the car.

A blush rises on Cas’s cheeks and he rubs the spot with his fingers where Dean’s lips just were; butterflies flutter around in his stomach. He watches Dean drive out of the driveway, waving good-bye before entering the house.

Anna meets him in the entryway, a curious look on her face.

“Who was _that_? Have you been hiding some secret boyfriend from me for the past few months?” She teases.

“That was Dean,” Cas answers and the look of shock on Anna’s face causes a laugh to leave his lips.

“You’re kidding.”

Cas shakes his head, “No… he was at the support meeting. He’s has cancer too but… I guess it’s okay? We’re going on a date tomorrow.”

“Are you sure about this?” Anna asks, worried. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder. Castiel knows what’s going through her mind. She saw how fucked up he got after losing Dean the first time and she doesn’t want to see him go through that pain again. Cas knows, regardless of the consequences, that Dean is worth it.

“I wasn’t, but I am now.”

\------

The next morning Cas wakes up pleased to find that his oxygen tubes have not tangled around his body while he was sleeping. His breathing is easier today and his lungs seem to be working at their full capacity. He takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly, yawning and lazily stretching his arms above his head. He stretches his back, sighing happily when it cracks. Today is going to be a good day. He sits up in bed, turning so his sock-covered feet hit the carpet. Reaching out he grips his oxygen tank next to his bed and meanders his way to the bathroom. Cas runs his fingers through his hair, frowning when a dozen dark strands come loose. He washes them down the sink, trying to pretend that didn’t just happen and he _isn’t_ losing his hair. Denial isn’t the best option when having cancer, but he doesn’t want to be sad today.

Cas removes his oxygen tubes, setting them down on the counter. He can still breathe without them, it’s just harder and starves his body of oxygen faster. He removes his clothing, tossing it in a heap in front of the door. He raises his eyes and stares at himself in the mirror, fingers trailing down his sternum across the angry red scar that dashes across his chest, an unpleasant reminder of the tumor that once resided in his lungs. While the main, large tumor was removed, there are still a few small ones lodged within his bronchial tubes. The doctors suggested that those be left; the surgery to remove them threatened Castiel’s life and no one wanted to take that chance. So instead of surgery they went with the alternative option, chemo.

His body isn’t frail, not yet at least, but it’s only a matter of time. His fingers slide down the sinewy muscles of his bicep, making sure they are still taut and strong. They are, thankfully. He drops his hand with a sigh and steps into the shower. The hot water pounds onto his neck and back, soothing his muscles. He takes a quick shower, not wanting to waste any time. He’s not supposed to go without his oxygen for longer than twenty minutes at a time. It’s not life-threatening if he does, but he might have trouble breathing later on in the day. Cas steps out of the shower onto the bathmat, grabbing a towel off the hook and drying himself off, cringing at the handful of hair that shows up when he dries off his head. He only started losing his hair a few weeks ago. At first it had been about a dozen strands a day, but now there’s small clumps of hair falling out and frankly? It’s depressing. Not everyone goes bald after starting chemo, but apparently Cas just got dealt a short hand.

He wraps the towel around his waist and reinserts his oxygen tubes into his nose, adjusting them in the mirror so they are straight on his face. Cas takes in a deep breath of the pure air and lets it out slowly. Ah, much better. He heads into his room and throws on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, then trudges downstairs, oxygen tank thumping down the stairs behind him. Anna is sitting at the dining room table, hands wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee. She looks like she just woke up as well, still in her pajamas, long, red hair wavy and not brushed.

“Good morning, Castiel,” She says with a warm smile, “How are you today?”

Cas sits across from her at the table, pouring himself a glass of orange juice from the carton sitting on the tabletop.

“I’m having a good day. My lungs seem clearer than normal,” Cas replies, taking a long drink of the tangy juice. Anna takes a sip of her coffee. The mug is one Castiel gave her, a powder baby blue color with white doves flying around the outside. When he found it in the store, he’d been drawn to the mug instantly. For some reason it reminded him of Anna and he _had_ to get it for her. She uses it almost every day now.

“That’s good!” Anna replies enthusiastically, grinning at him. “When is your date?”

She’s giving him one of those _looks_ , and Cas knows she’s about to start teasing him any second.

“He’ll be here at ten,” Cas answers, ignoring the little flutter that goes through him at the thought of Dean.

“Soon then! What are you wearing?”

“I… I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it yet,” Cas answers, mentally beginning to freak out. He can’t wear sweatpants! Okay, maybe he _can,_ Dean wouldn’t mind, but he wants to look good.

“Don’t worry about it too much, Dean will love you even if you’re in your pajamas, but I can help you pick out something if you want,” Anna says, realizing that her question had thrown Cas into panic mode.

“Okay,” Cas agrees, “But after breakfast.”

Castiel makes himself a bowl of cheerios for breakfast, chopping up a banana into eight even pieces on the top. He eats quickly, takes his daily amount of pills, cleans his empty bowl and glass, and then heads back upstairs to where Anna is waiting for him. She’s leaning against his doorway when he reaches the top of the stairs, arms crossed across her chest.

“So, I was thinking blue,” She states with a smirk and Castiel rolls his eyes, pushing past her into his room.

“Blue?” Castiel asks in confusion as he removes his t-shirt.

“It will bring out your eyes! Dean has always loved your eyes,” Anna says obviously, moving from the doorway to Castiel’s closet, sifting through his shirts.

“How do _you_ know that?” Cas asks, narrowing his eyes at her turned back.

“He was always staring at you, like he was lost in your oceanic blue eyes.” She makes a swooning motion and Castiel throws his t-shirt at her.

“You’re ridiculous,” Cas states, taking the blue button down she hands him.

“It’s true! I remember how you two used to gaze at each other longingly, it was awful. Sam and I always talked about how gross you were.”

Cas buttons up the front of the shirt and turns to stare at himself in the mirror. Anna was right, blue _does_ bring out his eyes. The color gives his face more color and makes it seem like his eyes are brighter. He takes off his sweatpants and grabs a pair of jeans off the back of his chair, sliding them on. Once he’s done, he turns to Anna.

“I think this might work.”

Anna takes a few steps forward, reaching up to fix his collar.

“You look lovely,” she says, smoothing down the front of his shirt with her hands.

Castiel stares at himself in the mirror. He looks nice – Dean will surely think so. He nods, glancing down at the ground and wringing his hands together.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asks.

“I really loved him, you know,” Castiel says softly, idly smoothing out the wrinkles in his jeans with his hands.

“You still do,” Anna replies placing a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Cas looks up at her in surprise.

“It’s that obvious?”

Anna shakes her head, “No… I haven’t seen you with him since you were teenagers, but he was always _the one._ Everyone has their person, and Dean is yours.”

Castiel nods slowly, “You’re right.”

The doorbell rings and Cas jumps, startled. Anna laughs and pats him on the shoulder, “You finish getting ready, I’ll go talk to Dean.”

“Thank you, I will only be a few more minutes.”

Anna heads down the stairs and opens the door with a flourish and a grin. Dean Winchester leans against the door-frame, a boyish smile on his face.

“Hey Anna!”

“Dean, it’s been… a long time.” Anna moves forward to give him a short hug. She motions for him to come in and he follows her into the living room.

“How are you?” She asks.

Dean shrugs, “Eh. I’m doing good today, surprisingly.”

“That’s good, Cas is having a good day too.”

Dean’s face lights up at the mention of Cas’s name, “Where _is_ your extremely cute brother by the way?”

Anna laughs. “He’s just finishing getting ready, he’ll be down soon.”

Dean smiles for a second, but then his smiles fades. He shifts on his feet nervously licking his lips, “Listen, I know you’re his sister and I know you’re worried about him getting hurt, but I want you to know that… I really care about him and I know this isn’t exactly a normal set of circumstances, but I’m not going to do anything to hurt him.”

“I know,” Anna replies with a comforting smile.

Dean nods, “Good. I just… wanted to make sure you knew that.”

They continue talking for a few minutes about casual things, catching up with each other. Dean learns that Anna works as a journalist for the local San Francisco newspaper, writing controversial columns about women’s rights. She isn’t in a relationship for the time being; she’s taking a break and focusing on herself. Dean tells her he’s proud of her.

Cas comes down the stairs a few minutes later, with a shy smile on his face. Dean is talking to Anna, but when he sees Cas he stops and stares.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas says, stepping off the bottom stair and pulling Dean into a hug. His fingers cling to the coarse fabric of Dean’s green plaid shirt. It takes Dean a second to hug back, but when he does, his arms wrap around Cas’s waist, pulling Cas against him. Dean is warm and smells faintly like vanilla, like home. They pull away, only separating a few inches, still lost in each other. Anna glances back and form between them with a smirk on her face.

“You two kids have fun,” She says, giving them both a push towards the door.

Once they are outside the front door and out of Anna’s view, Dean deliberately brushes his fingers against Cas’s as they walk out to the impala. He looks over at Cas expectantly and Cas nods. Dean smiles, curling his fingers around Cas’s. They separate for a few seconds when they reach the impala, but back inside the car Dean immediately reaches over and takes Cas’s hand, intertwining their fingers together.

“Morning,” Dean says with a grin, giving Cas’s hand a squeeze.

“Good morning, how are you?” Cas asks, with a radiant smile.

“Pretty good today, no pain. What about you?”

“My breathing is better and I don’t feel like my lungs are choking me,” Cas replies happily.

“Good,” Dean answers, releasing Cas’s hand for a moment to put the key in the ignition and start the car.

He reverses, backing out of the driveway and onto the street. He grabs Cas’s hand again when he’s finished shifting the gears. They drive in companionable silence, classic rock playing softly over the radio. The air is cool this morning and the typical San Francisco fog hasn’t burned off yet, causing the air to smell musty. Someone calls into the radio station asking for love advice. The young woman is questioning whether or not to tell her best friend she is in love with him. The radio host tells her to go for it that life’s too short to be scared of taking chances. Live freely and love deeply no matter what the consequences. Love is worth it.

“Dean,” Cas says, breaking the silence between them.

“Hmm?” Dean asks, stealing a glance over at Cas.

“You do not have to hold my hand if doing so inhibits your driving.”

Dean chuckles, “I can drive with one hand, Cas.”

“You just don’t want to let go of my hand,” Cas states with a raised eyebrow.

“Damn, you got me.”

“Dean Winchester it’s only our first date and you’re already holding my hand,” Cas teases.

Dean snorts, “What can I say, I don’t like to wait!”

They both dissolve into laughter. Cas listens to the music and looks around at the view. They are heading towards the Golden Gate Bridge, which gives Cas no clue whatsoever to where Dean is taking him.

“Where are we going?” Cas pips up, using his free hand to adjust his oxygen tubes. They like to fall out of place sometimes, restricting his access to the air he needs.

“It’s a surprise!” Dean says enthusiastically.

Cas frowns, “Can I have a hint?”

Dean ponders this for a minute, “Sure. There’s going to be a bridge nearby.”

Cas squints at Dean. “That was not a very helpful hint.”

“I know, but I promise you’re gonna love it.” Dean smiles, bringing Cas’s hand up to his lips and kissing the top of his hand like the true romantic fucking sap he is.

“I believe you,” Cas replies, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss against Dean’s cheek.

Dean looks good. There’s a giddy little smile on his face that never moves, he seems almost overjoyed and Cas is at a loss for words at how happy it makes him that Dean is smiling because of him. When one of Dean’s favorite Zeppelin songs comes over the radio he starts to sing along and Cas joins him this time. Their voices joining together to create a beautiful harmony – though a bit off tune.

Dean gets off the highway a few exits after crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, turning onto a side road and then a graveled one that slopes down towards the bay. Up ahead there are a few cars parked in small parking lot; Dean pulls into an empty parking spot, releasing Cas’s hand to shift the car into park.

“We’re here!” Dean says happily.

There’s a sign to the right that says Baker Beach in big, bolded black letters. Cas has been here before, it’s been awhile, but he’s definitely been here before. This is the iconic little beach that has spectacular views of the bridge. Cas gazes out at the view in front of them. They are parked atop a little grassy hill overlooking a sandy beach. Gentle waves crash against the shore and the Golden Gate Bridge stands to the right; its bright orange formation peeking out through the dissolving fog.

“It’s beautiful,” Cas says, almost in a trance.

“Right? I figured you’d like this. You wanna get out?” Dean asks, and Cas nods, opening the passenger side door. It’s a bit windy, the gusts ruffling his hair and shirt. Dean moves to the trunk and pulls out a basket and a blanket.

“Can you hold the blanket?” He asks and Cas just stares at him for a second in wonder, taking the blanket and folding it across his left arm.

“You’re… this is… a picnic?” Cas stutters out and Dean laughs.

“Yep, a picnic! I always meant to take you on one… a long time ago because you thought they were romantic, but we never got to… so I thought hey, now’s a good a time as any!”

Dean closes the trunk of the impala and walks side-by-side next to Cas over to a spot of grass. There is hardly anyone here, it’s a weekday and in the morning. Most people are working, allowing the normally crowded beach area to be peaceful and secluded. Castiel loves it.

“How do you even remember that?” Cas asks.

“I remember _everything,”_ Dean replies with mock-arrogance. Cas laughs, pushing against his shoulder gently.

“Of course you do.”

Cas lays out the blanket on the grass and Dean sets the basket down on top. He plops down onto the grass and Dean sits next to him, close enough so that their legs are touching. Dean opens the basket and starts digging through it until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Would you like a sandwich?” Dean asks, holding out a neatly wrapped sandwich for Cas to take.

“I would, thank you,” Cas answers politely with a grin. He takes the sandwich from Dean’s hand and unwraps it. The sandwich itself is a thing of glory. Dean used some special grainy bread, tomatoes, ham, cheese, spinach and a sauce that Cas has never seen before. He takes a hesitant bite; Dean watches him eagerly. Cas’s eyes grow wide: this is one fucking amazing sandwich.

“This is delicious!” Cas mumbles, mouth full. “Do you cook, now?” Cas asks after he swallows.

“Yeah, I started cooking a few years ago. I realized I really enjoyed it, so I bought a few recipe books and taught myself how to make some awesome shit,” Dean replies.

He takes a bite of his own sandwich making an exaggerated moan of pleasure sending Cas into a fit of laughter.  

They continue eating and take turns taking sips from a canteen full of lemonade Dean brought for them to share. The warmth of the sun is beginning to burn off the fog surrounding the bay. Families of seagulls dash across the sky, swooping low near the water, the tips of their wings brushing the surface. A hundred feet below them, the waves hit the shore in soft whooshing noises. Cas finishes his sandwich, takes another sip of lemonade and wipes his fingers off with a napkin. He sneakily grabs Dean’s hand, quickly discovering that he really missed holding Dean’s hand, _a lot._

“So,” Dean starts, “Can I ask you something?”

Cas looks over at him curiously, giving Dean his full attention.

“You may.”

“What’s something you’ve always wanted, but… you don’t think you’re going to get to have?” Dean asks.

He’s staring out across the bay, purposefully not looking at Cas. It’s odd, he’s so serious.

“You mean other than a chance to be with you again?” Cas asks, trying to lighten him up a bit.

Dean’s lips twitch, “Yeah, other than me.”

Castiel ponders Dean’s question for a moment, watching sun beams dance across the rolling waves.

“I’ve always had this dream,” Cas admits and Dean turns to him, watching him carefully.

“When I was in college I would think about you and wonder if maybe I would see you again someday, if we would get a second chance. I doubted it, of course, yet, I still dreamed about buying a little house with you.”

“A little house?”

Cas nods, “A little house or cabin so to speak, up in the woods along the coast. A small secluded place away from civilization, surrounded by wildflowers with a dirt path that lead to a cliff overlooking the ocean. It would be our own little paradise where I could love you and no one would give a damn.”

“That sounds beautiful,” Dean says softly. Dean’s eyes are sparkling like emeralds and all Cas wants to do is close the distance between them and kiss him, but he can’t, not yet.

“Yes, but I know that dream is impossible,” Cas says dejectedly after a few moments, glancing away and back out to sea.

“Why?”

“All the money I have saved is going towards doctor’s bills and chemo. On my salary, I can’t even begin to think about using any of my money on some frivolous dream,” Cas explains.

“Do you believe in miracles?” Dean asks lightheartedly.

“Dean…”

“I’m serious,” Dean says, bumping into Cas’s shoulder.

Cas shakes his head, “No, I’ll believe in miracles when I see one.”

Dean nods in understanding. When you’re dying miracles seem a little far-fetched. The only miracle you want is to make the disease go away, but obviously that’s hopeless so instead you dream for things you know you can’t have. It’s a way of coping, a way of keeping yourself sane.

“Well who knows, maybe you’ll see one.”

He lets go of Cas’s hand and wraps his arm around Cas’s shoulder. Cas leans into him, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder and Dean leans over, kissing the top of Cas’s head. Cas smiles softly at the gesture and slides his arm around Dean’s waist.

“Thank you for taking me here, this is… perfect,” Cas says, turning his head to look at Dean.

“You’re welcome.”  

Their faces are so close, only a few inches separate them. Cas hasn’t been this close to Dean in so long. He’s getting lost in Dean’s eyes, in the soft curve of his lips and the warmth of his hand on his shoulder. He’s lost, so fucking lost.

Cas takes in a deep breath of courage and asks, “May I kiss you?”

Dean smiles brilliantly and it’s like the sun rising, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Underneath the glorious California sun Cas kisses Dean for the first time in twenty years. Their lips meet and it’s nothing less than cataclysmic. Outwardly, there are no explosions, no fireworks, but internally Cas feels like he’s flying and coming home all at the same time. They pull apart, both breathless. Cas’s lips feel like they’re tingling and he can’t wipe the ridiculous grin off of his face. Dean has a similar grin on his own face and the hand that was on Cas’s shoulder is now on top of his hand, his thumb rubbing circles into Cas’s skin. A rush of warmth floods through Cas’s entire body and for a moment he doesn’t feel like he’s dying. He feels alive.


	3. Chapter 3

The week following Dean and Cas’s first date are not filled with time together, but appointments and treatments. Cas and Dean both have their weekly dosage of chemotherapy and Cas has two doctor’s appointments to go to. As much as they want to spend more time together, they can’t. It isn’t until nearly two weeks later that they both have time to see each other again.

Dean picks Cas up at the hospital after his doctor’s appointment; pulling up to the curb with a saucy grin on his face like some kind of Casanova. Despite Dean’s deteriorating condition, he still looks so beautiful, even more so when he smiles. Cas grins at him and slides into the passenger seat.

“Hey,” Dean says, leaning across the seat and pressing a kiss on Cas’s cheek.

“Hello, how are you?” Cas asks.

“I’m alright, you wanna go get something to eat?”

“Sure,” Cas answers, grabbing Dean’s hand from where it rests on his thigh.

“Any particular place?” Dean asks.

“Can you show me your favorite diner?” Cas says, feeling a flush of warmth when Dean’s entire face lights up.

“I’d be glad to.”

Dean squeezes Cas’s hand, then without another word, he speeds out of the parking lot and onto the main road. A few blocks past the hospital, Dean looks over at Cas briefly and asks, “How did your appointment go?”

“Not as well as I’d hoped,” Cas replies with a frown.

“What did they say?”

“Well, they didn’t tell me anything new. They always tell me the same thing, ‘The chemo is slowly helping the tumors shrink in your lungs. However, the cancer continues to spread throughout your body.’ Then they remind me that I have four to five months to live at the most. Very inspiring isn’t it?” Cas says sarcastically.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says softly.

Cas shrugs, “There’s nothing that can be done, I just have to keep living until I can’t anymore.”

Dean nods in understanding, “My doctors tell me shit like that too. I dunno why though, especially if they are trying to convince us to keep fighting the good fight. It seems kind of counter-productive if you ask me.”

“It seems that way, yes. Thought to give them the benefit of the doubt, I’m sure it is a difficult job telling people they are going to die, I wouldn’t want that job,” Cas says.

“You’ve got a point, I’m still sorry it didn’t go well.”

“That’s alright, I’m with you now so it doesn’t matter,” Cas replies.

He slots his fingers between Dean’s with the hint of a smile on his face.

He doesn’t miss the way Dean gapes at him for a few seconds and then turns his eyes back to the road with an exuberant almost victorious grin.

\------

The diner is a small, seemingly insignificant building on one of San Francisco’s thousands of crisscrossing streets. It’s a charming little place though, white-washed with red shutters on the windows. Looking through the windows to the inside Cas can see plush red booths with old records hanging on the walls and a jukebox in the corner. There is a big sign in the parking lot and on the door which says, “Mo’s Diner!” A few words line underneath the large sign in the parking lot stating, “Slice of pie, $1.99!”

Cas looks over at Dean with a teasing smile, “So that’s why you like it here, because of the pie right?”

Dean chuckles, “Mm that might be part of the reason. Mo’s also has really good burgers, which you like.”

“I do,” Cas says with a grin.  _Dean remembered_.

Dean smiles at him softly, green eyes twinkling in the light of the sun and for a moment Cas gets lost in their shine.

“You wanna go in?” Dean asks, breaking Cas out of his trance.

Cas blinks twice and then nods.

The waitress seats them next to one of the windows at a booth, a few feet away from the jukebox. If the outside looked like a blast from the past, the inside is a time machine, transporting patrons back to the time of poodle dog skirts, white picket fences and the birth of rock n’roll. Back to when teenagers went out on their first date to get a milkshake, to hold hands underneath the table and maybe share a first kiss on the front step after their date. This place is chocked full of memories and Cas can see why Dean loves it.

An old Four Tops song blasts out of the speakers and across the table from him Dean taps his fingers on the top of the opened menu, eyes scrolling back and forth through the options.

“What are you getting?” Dean asks.

Cas frowns, “I don’t know yet, probably a cheeseburger.”

Dean contemplates this for a few seconds, then sighs heavily and slaps the menu shut with a hearty grin.

“You know what? Fuck it. It’s been a month since I’ve had diner food and this is a special occasion, I’m gonna have a fucking cheeseburger too.”

“Special occasion?” Cas says with a raised eyebrow.

“Well yeah, any date with you is a special occasion,” Dean replies with a smirk.

Cas blushes and darts his eyes away from Dean, smiling softly.

“I don’t remember you being this sappy before,” Cas muses.

Dean shrugs, clasping his hands in front of him on the table, “I dunno, I think I always was like this I just never expressed it. Back then, we had all the time in the world now, we don’t. And I guess I want you to know how happy I am when I’m with you.”

“Well, I guess if this is a special occasion, we should share a piece of pie don’t you think?” Cas states with a wink.

“I think it would be a sin not to,” Dean replies seriously.

Then they’re both busting up into laughter and Cas feels good, better than he’s felt in a long time.

Their waitress returns to the table, bringing them both a glass of water. She takes their order, two cheeseburgers and one large slice of pecan pie with ice cream. Dean gives her a wink when she walks away and the poor girl turns redder than a tomato.

“Still quite the charmer I see,” Cas says.

“Until the day I die. Jealous?” Dean teases, smirking at Cas.

“Hardly, I doubt she could tear you away from me if she tried.”

“That’s probably true.”

There’s a pause and Cas takes a sip of his water, trying not to laugh at the fact that Dean keeps trying and succeeding to play footsie with him under the table. He feels like a teenager again. Partly he thinks that they should be going about this differently, not so open and more guarded, but there’s no point to that not in a situation like theirs.

When Cas looks up, Dean is staring at him, resting his chin on his clasped hands. He looks like he’s contemplating something and Cas can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Can I ask you something serious?” Dean says.

“Of course.”

“There’s something I always wondered, and I don’t fault you for it at all, but…. I just wanna know, why didn’t you try to call me or something after you left?” Dean asks.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, I did more than anything, I just I wasn’t allowed to. Michael made sure we didn’t have a phone in the house and I had no money to buy stamps if I wanted to mail you letter. Even if I had gotten a letter out, Michael surely would have intercepted your returning message and destroyed all evidence that you ever responded. When I got to college I thought of trying to contact you, but by then I figured it was too late.  I wish now that I had, perhaps things would’ve been different.”

“Fuck, I wish I would’ve know where you were. I could’ve gotten you the fuck outta there and we… we could’ve been together for the past twenty years.”

Cas smiles sadly, “I know. There are a lot of things I wish had gone differently, but I cannot change the past. I am only glad that I get to have this time with you.”

Dean nods, staring down at his glass of water, “Yeah, me too.”

The air around them fills with silence and Cas doesn’t know what to say. His mind is racing with thoughts of what could’ve been and he desperately tries to block out those thoughts and focus on the man in front of him. Dean is here now, Dean is with him now. They cannot have any of the past twenty years back, but they can have the next few months. It won’t be enough time, there will never be enough time to make up for all the time that they lost. It’s better than nothing and Cas plans to make the most of the time he’s been given.

“I think we need a song,” Dean says suddenly, looking up at Cas.

“A song?”

“Yeah, a song. You know a blast from our past.”

He rises from the booth and walks the few steps over to the jukebox. Cas watches him dig around in his pockets for change until he finds a few quarters and pops them into the machine. It takes him awhile to find a song, scrolling through the lists until Cas sees him grin and slam his finger down on the button. The jukebox makes a few clicking noises and the speakers above them make a poof. The first notes of the song start drifting out of them, slow and easy. It sounds like a ballad. Cas listens curiously to what Dean has chosen.

_Oh, my love, my darling_

_I’ve hungered for your touch_

_A long, lonely time_

_Time goes by so slowly_

_And time can do so much_

_Are you still mine?_

“Unchained melody? Really, Dean?” Cas states, incredulously. Dean plops down on the seat across from him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Come on, Cas! Don’t you remember what we did to this song?” Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows and nudging at Cas’s foot underneath the table.

The gesture makes Cas laugh and he shakes his head at Dean.

“How could I forget? We made out for the first time in the impala while listening to this song.”

“Pretty good memory if I do say so myself,” Dean states, leaning back against the booth, smirking.

“It is, though if I remember correctly you used way too much tongue,” Cas says, a mask of mock-seriousness.

“Hey, I couldn’t help it, plus you accidentally bit my lip so I’m pretty sure we’re even.”

Cas chuckles, “We’re even. However, I do think that we should try again, after all we are older now and much more skilled in the art of kissing.”

Dean’s face lights up and he points at Cas, “I’m holding you to that.”

The Righteous Brothers croon in the background as Cas gazes at Dean.

_Lonely rivers sigh_

_“Wait for me, wait for me”_

_I’ll be coming home, wait for me_

_Are you still mine?_

Dean reaches across the empty expanse of air between them and take Cas’s hand within his own.

The waitress comes by with their burgers and places the food down in front of them with a flourish and an extra friendly smile at Dean. She notices their joined hands on the tabletop and her smiles drops to a frown.  Cas thanks her with a polite smile while Dean tries to hold back his laughter. The moment she’s out of view, Dean flashes Cas a grin, releasing his hand and tears into his hamburger like a ravenous animal.

“God it’s been so long. How did I live without burgers?” Dean sighs happily, closing his eyes and enjoying the wonderfulness of greasy cheese and ground beef.

“You have suffered valiantly,” Cas states in between bites.

“Shut up. Do you like them?” Dean asks.

“Yes, these make me very happy.”

“Good.”

Dean and Cas eat in silence for a few minutes, both too wrapped up in how friggin’ awesome the burgers are to talk. While they are eating, their waitress comes by with the slice of pie they ordered and sets it down on the table. Dean’s hamburger is gone – he ate it so fast, it looked like he hadn’t eaten a substantial meal in a month – so he tries the pie first. He grabs the fork resting on the edge of the plate and digs into the nutty and ice cream-covered pie.

“Oh my god,” Dean says, voice muffled because of the pie in his mouth.

“Is it good?” Cas asks with a slight smile.

“It’s like sex in a dessert.”

Cas raises an eyebrow and laughs, “That’s a very interesting analogy.”

“You gotta try it,” Dean says, “Here.” He pushes the plate across the table, watching in anticipation as Cas cuts off a piece of the pie with the side of the fork and puts it into his mouth.

“This is delicious!” Cas replies enthusiastically, staring down at the pie in wonder.

“We’re going to have to come back here more often, huh?” Dean says with a wink. Cas nods at him, taking another small bite of the pie, then sliding it back across the table to Dean.

“Does that mean you want to go on another date with me?” Cas teases, already knowing Dean’s answer is yes.

“Mmmmm, I don’t know,” Dean says, tapping his fingers on his chin, contemplating, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Is there something I must do to prove my worthiness?”

Dean shakes his head, “Nah, you’re already an angel, I’m the one who should be worried about living up to you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Cas huffs.

Dean pushes the now empty plate off to the side and reaches across the table to grab Cas’s hand. He encloses Cas’s fingers in his palm, running his thumb back and forth underneath them.

“You wanna get out of here?” Dean asks.

“Yes.”

Dean practically bounds out of his seat, moving over to Cas’s side of the booth and waiting while Cas maneuvers his oxygen tank out of the booth. He wraps Cas’s hand within his own and they walk up to the front counter. Dean drops a ten onto countertop, winking at the waitress who scowls at him in annoyance. Their combined laughter can be heard all the way out the door.

“So where to?” Dean asks, diplomatically once they’re both back inside the impala.

“Is Sam home?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Can we go see him?” Cas asks, hopefully. 

“Sure! He’s gonna shit bricks when he sees you,” Dean laughs.

Cas spends the twenty minute drive across the city to Sam’s apartment holding Dean’s hand and listening to him hum softly to the radio. He shouldn’t feel as comfortable with Dean as he does, considering they only reunited two weeks ago. Everything feels so natural, like they were always supposed to be together like this, they just never got the chance until now.

When they pull up to Sam’s driveway, Dean goes to get out of the car, but finds he cannot. Their hands are sweaty and sticking together when they try to pull them apart, causing both Dean and Cas laugh. It takes a few seconds, but they eventually separate themselves and climb out of the car.

Dean raps twice on Sam’s door and waits patiently, stuffing his free hand into his pocket. The door opens revealing a very perplexed Sam, who glances at Cas, at Dean, at their join hands and then back to Dean again.

“Hello, Sam,” Cas says with a bright grin.

“Cas! Oh my god!”

Sam jumps off the step, pulling Cas into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet and practically squishing him.

“Hey now, gigantor, don’t squish my date,” Dean teases. Sam realizes he accidentally lifted Cas off the ground and awkwardly puts him back down on his feet.

“It’s really good to see you,” Sam says, genuinely, patting Cas’s shoulder.

“It’s been so long,” Cas says. He raises his eyes, looking up at Sam, “You grew... a lot.”

Sam and Dean both collapse into laughter.

“Yeah, I did.”

“A lot is an understatement,” Dean snorts and Sam punches him in the shoulder.

“God, Cas it’s been what? Twenty years?” Sam asks, leading them through the entryway into his living room.

“Twenty years. You were twelve the last time I saw you.”

“Awwww, he had just started going through puberty then. Remember when he got excited the first time he grew chest hair?” Dean says.

“Awwww,” Sam says mockingly, “Shut up, Dean.”

Dean snickers and pulls Cas down next to him on Sam’s couch. Sam sits across from them in a loveseat, all grins and floppy hair. He looks the same as he did twenty years ago when he was a little growing kid with long limbs and a squeaky voice, now he’s just older and grown-up.

“How are you doing? Dean told me about how you two met again, I’m really sorry you have to go through this.”

Cas smiles softly, “Thank you, Sam. Today has been good so far, I’m not in very much pain and my lungs seem apt to want to breathe, thankfully.”

Sam wills himself a little smile, “That’s good right?”

“Yes, better than normal.”

“How about you, Dean?” Sam asks, turning to his brother.

Dean rolls his eyes, “I’m fine, Mom.”

“Yeah sure, how are you really?” Sam asks, shooting Dean a bitch face.

“I’m fine, really. My stomach’s hurting a bit, but other than that I’m good, okay? Stop worrying, Sammy.”

“How are you, Sam?” Cas asks.

Sam grins and runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m really good, actually! Jess and I went to order our wedding cake today. It’s gonna look great and she’s super happy with it.”

“That’s wonderful, Sam. I’d love to meet Jess one day,”

“Oh yeah, of course. We should go out to dinner sometime so you can. I would have you meet her tonight, but she works swing shift at St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital and won’t be home until around midnight.”

“She’s a nurse?”

“Yeah, an awesome one too! She works with little kids who have cancer and have to go in to get treatment. She calms them down and makes sure they’re as comfortable as possible.”

“That’s amazing, she sounds like an angel,” Cas says with a happy smile.

“She really is. I got so lucky, Cas.”

“I guess we both found our angels, huh Sammy?” Dean says.

“I guess so,” Sam laughs.

Cas stares at Dean for a few seconds, then leans over and presses a kiss against his cheek.

“What was that for?” Dean asks.

“Just cause,” Cas says with a shrug and a little grin.

Sam huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes.

“Wow, you guys are still gross. I’m getting cavities over here.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“We’re we always really like this?” Cas asks, curiously; first Anna and now Sam.

“Uh duh?” Sam says obviously, “Do you remember that time Dean drove us out to the big field on the edge of town that summer so we could watch the stars?”

“Of course.”

“You remember how I disappeared into the field after a while to leave you guys alone? Yeah, that was because I couldn’t stand sitting there watching you two make googly-eyes at each other.”

“Oh.”

Sam chuckles, “You two were always gross. I guess even twenty years can’t change that. Speaking of, Cas what do you do now?”

“Well… I don’t work much now, it’s too difficult with my lungs, but I am a marine biologist. I study wildlife along the coasts and the dolphin pods around the bay area,” Cas explains.

“That’s so cool!”

“It is, I really enjoy it.”

Sam’s lips twitch up into a grin and he glances back and forth at both of them.

“I gotta say something. I’m… I’m really happy you guys found each other again. I know how hard it was on Dean when Michael took you away, and I’m sure it was just as hard on you too. So the fact that you two are essentially getting a second chance, it’s friggin’ awesome.”

“Thank you Sam,” Cas says softly.

“Yeah, thanks Sammy,” Dean adds.

“Okay, now that I’ve got that out, are you guys gonna stay for awhile, do you want something to drink?” Sam asks.

Dean glances down at his watch and cringes.

“Aw, shit I want to, but I have chemo at like six tomorrow morning,” Dean says with a frown.

“Yes, it would probably be best if we go. I felt fine this afternoon after my treatment, however I think that the fatigue is catching up to me,” Cas states.

“That’s okay, I understand. We should have dinner together soon though, the four of us,” Sam suggests.

“I’d like that,” Cas says, rising up from the couch to give Sam a big hug.

“It was wonderful to see you,” Cas says, smiling at Sam.

“Yeah, you too Cas.”

Dean gets up and hugs Sam briefly.

“It was good to see you, Sammy. Tell Jess I said hi and that she better tease you for me,” Dean says with a smirk.

“I will.”

Sam waves good-bye from the front porch and Cas watches him in the rear-view mirror until he is out of sight.

 ------

Dean pulls into Cas’s driveway fifteen minutes after nine. Cas doesn’t get out of the car right away, he has something to do first. He turns in the passenger seat until he can semi-face Dean. Dean looks at him with narrowed and confused eyes.

“Thank you for tonight,” Cas says softly.

“It wasn’t that special of a date, it was just dinner,” Dean replies, shrugging.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

Cas’s hand finds its way to Dean’s cheek and he caresses the side of it. Dean leans into the touch, eyes slamming shut and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Thank you,” Cas breathes.

His hand slides to the back of Dean’s neck and he pulls him in. Their lips barely brush together at first and then Cas tangles his fingers in the short hairs at the nape of Dean’s neck and that’s it. Dean yields to him and Cas takes that as an invitation, pressing his lips firmly against Dean’s. One kiss turns into three and three turn into a dozen. Cas’s fingers leave Dean’s neck, trailing down his chest, pressing slightly, almost possessive, but mostly just to touch. His lips move from Dean’s to kiss the sharp lines of his jaw and the veins of his neck. He purposefully leaves a mark on the upper right side of Dean’s neck, just so that everyone will be able to see it tomorrow when Dean goes in for his appointment. Dean breathes out a shuttered gasp against Cas’s cheek, his fingers clenching Cas’s shoulders.

“Cas,” Dean murmurs, his lips pressed against the side of Cas’s cheek.

“Hmm?”

“This is definitely better than the first time,” Dean says.

Cas laughs, pressing a kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth, “Definitely.”

They kiss for a few more minutes, easy and slow, relearning each other. Dean sighs when they break apart for air, sliding his hands down Cas’s chest.

“I should probably go,” he says regretfully.

“You should. You need your sleep, chemo is draining,” Cas says, hand resting on Dean’s chest, fingers toying with the buttons on Dean’s shirt.

“Yeah, I know. I wish I could just stay here and kiss you all night,” Dean mutters, pulling away from Cas and frowning slightly.

“I know,” Cas says, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “What if this weekend I come over, we watch a movie or something and then you can kiss me all night?” Cas asks.

Dean’s lips twitch, slowly spreading to a smile that lights up his face and for a moment he looks younger, healthier and happy.

“That’d be awesome.”

“I can’t promise that I’ll be feeling the greatest and I know you might not be feeling all too well either. Regardless of how we’re both feeling, I’m sure being together will help.”

The doctors may tell him that he’s dying and prescribe him all the known drugs in existence to ease his pain and prolong his life. Those help to an extent, but all the drugs in the world cannot match the feeling he gets when he’s with Dean.

“You’re probably right,” Dean says. He rests his hand on the curve of the steering wheel and looks up at Cas’s porch. “Want me to walk you up to the door?” He asks.

“No, that’s alright. I’ll see you soon, let me know how your appointment goes tomorrow,” Cas says, leaning across the center console to give Dean one last lingering kiss.

“I will. G’night, Cas,” Dean replies, smiling softly.

“Good night, Dean.”

 ------

The following morning Cas wakes up feeling shitty. He lays in bed for ten minutes contemplating even attempting to get up. Today his lungs are not cooperating, wheezing and constricting with nearly every breath he takes. The pain is practically unbearable and all he wants to do is bury himself underneath the cover and go back to sleep. It also doesn’t help that he’s feeling nauseous from his chemo treatment a few days ago. He adjusts his position in bed, turning over onto his side in an attempt to open his air passageways. This helps to some degree and less than a half hour after he originally woke up, Cas is back asleep.

He vaguely remembers Anna coming in to check on him a few hours later, placing a bucket next to his bed just in case he felt the need to vomit up his empty stomach. Cas doesn’t wake up for long, then he’s back asleep again. His sleep isn’t entirely restful, he wakes up after every sleep cycle to a sharp ache in his stomach and the need to throw-up, though he never does. Around two in the afternoon he gives up on trying to sleep and sits up in bed, grabbing the novel he’s been reading for the past few weeks off of his nightstand.

It’s a newly published book entitled, Number the Stars. He’d found it in a bookstore last month and thought that the premise sounded interesting, albeit a tad heartbreaking. The protagonist is a young girl in the midst of WWI who saves her Jewish best friend from the Nazi soldiers marching through their town. He’s nearly done with it and so far the book has… humbled him to say the least.

Sometimes Cas feels like his whole world is crashing in around him. Before he found Dean again, sometimes he’d wonder why he even bothered getting up in the morning. Why prolong his death when he could just die right now and jump start the process?

Then he started reading Number the Stars and realized that it’s not just him, many good people have horrible things happen to them, but that doesn’t mean you give up fighting.

“You’re awake,” Anna says from the doorway, startling him out of his reading.

Cas looks up from his book. “I am,” he says with a hesitant smile.

“How are you feeling? You slept for long time,” Anna asks, moving from the door to sit on the side of his bed. Cas puts a bookmark in his book and sets it back on the nightstand.

“Better, though I still feel extremely tired.”

“I brought you some soup, maybe you can try to eat some?” Anna asks.

Cas notices the steaming bowl in her hands and reaches out, taking the bowl. He brings a bit of the hot soup up to his lips, blows on it and then tries a sip of the broth. It’s good, rich and tasty. His stomach growls, not in protest, but hunger.

“It’s very good, thank you, Anna,” Cas says gratefully, patting Anna’s hand with his where it rests on the bed.

She lets him eat a few more bites before she speaks again.

“Dean called while you were asleep, I told him that I’d have you call him back when you woke up if you were feeling up to it.”

“Is he alright?” Cas asks, pausing with the spoon half-way to his mouth.

“Yes, he told me to tell you that he hopes you feel better and that chemo sucks dick.”

Cas laughs for the first time all day, one of those full-body, tear inducing laughs that makes your stomach tighten. _Chemo sucks dick_ ; only Dean would know how to say the truth so bluntly and perfectly like that.

“I’m going to call him back,” Cas states, setting his bowl down on the nightstand and reaching for the phone.

Anna nods, “I’ll be back later, enjoy your soup.”

Cas smiles at her as she leaves, then presses the speaker up to his ear. The dial tone is loud and annoying in his ear, but is replaced by a series of ten beeps as he dials in Dean’s number. The phone starts ringing and he rests back against the headboard of his bed, waiting.

“Hello?” Dean says. Cas frowns instantly at how tired he sounds.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says warmly.

Dean sighs happily over the phone and it makes Cas grin.

“God it’s good to hear your voice.”

“How are you?” Cas asks.

“Shitty, well not as shitty _now,_ but it wasn’t a good appointment.”

“What did they say?”

“Similar to what they told you, that my cancer is continuing to spread, but… apparently it’s spread more than they thought. The doctors are pretty sure I won’t make it to the end of the year.”

“Oh Dean, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, what do they know? They aren’t God, who the hell told them it was okay to tell someone when they are going to die. They don’t know anything.”

Dean is angry, that much is obvious and he has every right to be. Cas knows what this feels like all too well.

Having cancer is like being on death row. You know your supposed execution date and you know how you’re going to die. You can try to get an appeal on your case, but nine times out of then, you’re out of luck. Except with cancer, you’re not guilty of anything other than being human with a faulty genome.

“Dean,” Cas says softly.

“What?” Dean asks, gruffly. Cas knows he doesn’t intend for the question to come out as harsh, he’s upset, he’s in pain and Cas wishes he could take it away.

“Do you want me to come over?”

Dean sighs tiredly into the phone, “No, that’s okay. Thanks for offering though, but I know you’re feeling shitty too. I’m probably going to call Sam and then go to bed. Just rest up, okay?”

“I will, you get some rest too.”

“You’re still coming over on Saturday, right?” Dean asks.

“Of course.”

“Good.”

“Good night, Dean, I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Night, Cas, see you soon.”

 ------

Three days later Dean and Cas are in their pajamas sprawled out on Dean’s couch, having a Star Wars marathon. Neither are wholly watching the movies, they’ve both seen them multiple times before. The movies are just on as background noise so that they can talk and have something to listen to during the pauses in conversation. It’s nice, even though Cas and Dean both feel like they haven’t slept in weeks. Cas has a little smile constantly on his face and Dean can’t go for more than a few minutes without looking at Cas’s face and grinning. Dean has his arm slung around Cas’s shoulder and Cas’s head is resting on his chest, his eyes focused on Dean’s face. The Return of the Jedi plays in the background.

“How are you feeling?” Cas asks, looking up at Dean.

“Pretty damn good, right now,” Dean replies with a wink, surging down and kissing Cas gently.

“I mean _other_ than me being here,” Cas laughs.

Dean thinks for a moment then replies, “I’m good. I don’t know how you do it, but whenever I’m with you I feel okay. I feel almost normal.”

“Really?” Cas asks, sitting up a little bit.

“Yeah, I guess you have some sort of magical healing ability. Maybe you really are an angel,” Dean smirks.

Cas pushes against Dean’s shoulder with his hand, “Shut up.”

Dean chuckles and kisses him again.

“I feel the same way though,” Cas says, “I really do not understand why, but I feel better when I’m with you too.”

Dean grins, pressing a kiss against Cas’s forehead, “Good.”

Cas adjusts his position, rotating his body so he can rest his head in Dean’s lap. He stretches his legs out along the length of the couch and stares up at Dean. He’s forgotten the movie, he’d rather look at Dean. Dean doesn’t really watch the movie, only looking up away from Cas’s face during an iconic line or scene. Cas loves watching Dean laugh, he loves the lines that spread around his eyes and the twinkling in his eyes. He’s beautiful and Cas’s heart pulses with love every time he looks at him. Cas doesn’t even care that he has five months left to live, all that matters is he found Dean again.

“Hey Dean?” Cas says, softly.

“Hmmm?” Dean mumbles, looking down at him with a smile.

“I love you.”

It should be harder to say those three words, but they feel so natural rolling off his tongue. It’s been twenty years since he’s said, “I love you,” he couldn’t have said it any sooner, not to anyone else.

Dean just stares at him in shock. Maybe because it’s so sudden, so informal or maybe because they’re lying on the couch in their pajamas and Cas just told Dean he loved him for the first time since they were sixteen.

It takes Dean a few seconds to fully realize what Cas just said, but when he does Dean smiles so bright Cas thinks he’s looking into the sun.

“I love you too.”

He tangles his fingers in Cas’s hair and kisses him. It’s sloppy and a little awkward from this angle – it’s perfect.

“I never stopped loving you, you know,” Dean says when he pulls away.

“Me too.”

They end up making out on the couch after that, both too tired to do anything more. Eventually they make it to Dean’s bed. Cas adjusts his breathing tubes so they don’t accidentally get wrapped around Dean while they are sleeping. Once he’s situated, he scoots back against Dean’s chest and grabs Dean’s hands. Dean presses a kiss to the back of his neck, clasping his hands in front of Cas’s stomach; secure and comforting.

“I love you,” Cas whispers, covering Dean’s hands with his own.

“I love you, too.” Dean whispers.

“I hope you know I’m not going to stop saying that now,” Cas whispers back.

Dean chuckles and presses a kiss into Cas’s hair. “Good.”

Cas presses back against Dean’s chest, relaxing into his arms. He can already feel sleep starting to seep into his mind, so he lets go. For the first time in months, instead of falling asleep to the hissing of his oxygen tank, Cas falls asleep to the sound of Dean’s even heavy breathing. If this isn’t heaven, he doesn’t know what is.


	4. Chapter 4

The next month goes by in a whirlwind. Cas meets Jess for the first time when the four of them go out to dinner one evening. He finds that she really is just as charming and kind as Sam made her out to be. They strike up an instant friendship. On this momentous evening, Dean and Cas also announce to Sam and Jess – as well as Anna, later on in the evening – that they are together. This surprises absolutely no one and the news is met with jubilant happiness, as to be expected.

May passes into June, summer finally arriving. Dean and Cas continue going to their weekly support group, deciding attending was worth their time. They have friends there now too – Benny and Jo. Sometimes after meetings the four of them will go out to dinner, talking and laughing for hours about everything under the sun. It helps, Cas thinks to be able to talk to people about what he is feeling and have them completely understand because they’re going through it too. It’s therapeutic.

In late June, the chemo begins to have stronger effects on Cas’s body. His fatigue worsens, his hair falls out completely, much to his dismay and he cannot undergo treatment without nausea getting the better of him. He feels miserable 90% of the time. Even though Dean is at his side almost constantly, they both start to wonder if all the side-effects are worth the physical toll on Cas’s body.

They’re sitting in a park one evening, watching the sun set behind the bridge when Cas makes a decision.

“I’m going to stop treatment,” Cas states bluntly.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Dean look over at him.

“You sure?” Dean asks.

Cas turns his gaze away from the diminishing sun to Dean.

“I’d rather let myself die than continue to feel like shit all the time. I’m going to die regardless of the chemo, but…” Cas pauses, fighting back the lump growing in his throat. He squeezes Dean’s hand and then continues, “I’d like to spend my last few months with you happy and not in pain.”

“If you’re stopping, then I am too,” Dean says firmly.

“You don’t have to do that. What about Sam?”

Dean swallows thickly, “He’ll understand.”

“Dean, you really don’t have to it’s alrig-” Cas protests, but Dean silences him with a kiss.

“We’re going through this together, remember? I’m not letting you die without me coming along for the ride.”

“You do realize how that sounds, right?” Cas asks.

Dean shrugs, lips sliding into a smile, “Yeah, but I don’t care. What’s the saying again? Oh right, ‘til death do us part’.”

“We are not married, Dean. I don’t believe that phrase applies.”

Dean chuckles, “We’re not, but if we were allowed to, we would be.”

Cas smiles softly, not knowing how to reply to that. He watches the orange glow of the sun dance on Dean’s freckled face. The corners of Dean’s lips turn up, realizing Cas is watching him. Cas feels peaceful about his decision and from the look of happiness on his face, so does Dean.

Later that night when Dean and Cas announce to their family they’ve decided to stop treatment, the news goes over surprisingly well. Anna acts like she expected it. And Sam? Cas doesn’t miss the initial wave of sadness that flies over Sam’s face, but it is soon replaced with acceptance.

Life continues on normally, as normal as life can be for two people whose lives are ending. In the subsequent weeks they try to spend as much time together as possible, going to various places in San Francisco, to the beach, to dinner, and spending time with each other at home. It doesn’t matter what they do, all that matters is they make the most of the little time they have together.

\------

One morning in early July while Cas is sleeping the obnoxious ringing of the landline starts blaring by his head. He grumbles in his sleep, glancing at the alarm clock. 5:30. Who the hell would be calling this early in the morning? Cas fumbles around blindly with his hand, trying to reach the phone on his nightstand. He manages to grab it and presses the speaker up to his ear.

“Hello?” He says. His voice is scratchy and groggy from sleep. He yawns widely.

“Good morning, Cas,” Dean says on the other end of the line. He sounds excited and way to awake for this early in the morning. Dean is hardly up before eight let alone six.

“Dean?” Cas sits up in bed. “Are you alright?”

Dean laughs, “I’m great! Are you awake?”

“I am now,” Cas grumbles, rubbing his sleepy eyes with his free hand.

“Would you like to go on an adventure? I have something to show you,” Dean says and Cas can hear him rocking back and forth on his toes over the phone. He’s an excited little kid, presenting Cas with a bag of candy.

“Yes, you’ve made me curious, but what is so important that you had to wake me up this early?” 

“Do you trust me?” Dean asks seriously.

“Of course.”

“Then be ready to leave in a half hour, I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay, see you then.”

“I love you,” Dean sing-songs into the phone.

Cas grins, “I love you too.”

Cas hangs up the phone and practically bounds out of bed – remembering at the last second to grab his oxygen tank before he over-extends the length of his tubes, trips and falls flat on his face. He rushes into the bathroom, relieves himself and messes around with his hair until it looks somewhat decent. Cas throws on a pair of jeans and one of Dean’s AC/DC t-shirts he borrowed last week. He must look like a lunatic, running around his room, dragging his oxygen tank with him, the floorboards creaking with every step. He finds a pair of sneakers near his door and toes them on, tying the laces quickly, grabbing a jacket as he walks out the door, turning off the light and half-jogging downstairs. He reaches the bottom step and has to pause, bending over and taking in a few deep breaths to appease his lungs. Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t jog downstairs with half-working lungs, bad idea.

He should probably eat something. Not that Dean wouldn’t let him stop to get something on the way to wherever they were going, but it would be better if he eats now. Cas grabs a bowl out of the cupboard and fills it half with cheerios and a few splashes of milk. He pours himself a glass of orange juice and sits down at the kitchen table, right leg jiggling up and down in excitement. He eats and rinses his bowl, then waits near the door, checking his watch every two minutes. He really hopes he didn’t wake up Anna with his loud running around, she’s not the happiest person in the mornings.

A quiet knock sounds on the door three and a half minutes later and Cas jumps to the door, turning the lock slowly, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. He pulls open the door and cringes as it makes a squeaking noise. There’s Dean standing there with a ridiculous grin on his face, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Cas can’t help himself, he rushes forward, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and kisses him deeply.

“Where are we going?” Cas asks practically jumping up and down in excitement.

Whatever this is it must be a big deal if Dean woke him up this early for it.

“You sound like an excited puppy, calm down babe,” Dean says, with a chuckle.

Cas closes and locks the door, turning back around and taking Dean’s hand.

“Okay, so where are you taking me?” Cas repeats as they walk to the car and Dean shakes his head at Cas's insistent questions.

“I can’t tell you. You’re just gonna have to wait and find out.”

Cas glares at him over the impala in the dim light of the morning.

“Why must you tease me so?” He asks with a frown.

“I don’t know, it must be because I love you or something,” Dean replies, hand over his heart.

Dean’s “I love you,” coaxes a smile out of Cas. He slides into the passenger side of the car, leans over and presses a kiss against Dean’s cheek.

“This better be good or I’ll never forgive you for waking me up so early.”

“Oh it’s good, I promise,” Dean replies, backing out of the driveway.

As soon as they are on the street and Dean doesn’t have to use his right hand anymore, Cas grabs his hand, capturing it in his own. His leg is still jiggling at his side, he’s calmed down some, but there’s still electricity sparking beneath his skin. Cas looks out to the east where the sun is just tipping up over the horizon, bright orange making everything shine gold. They aren’t headed into the city, instead they are heading north along Highway 101 towards Napa Valley. Cas thought maybe Dean was taking him to some special spot in the city, apparently he’s wrong. When the signs for Interstate 1 start popping up, Dean merges to the right and exits the freeway onto the windy, coastal highway.

“Dean, are we going to the beach?” Cas asks. Maybe if he guesses a thousand times, he will figure it out.

“You know, Cas, curiosity killed the cat,” Dean teases with a sarcastic grin.

“I know, but I am so confused.”

Dean huffs out a laugh and squeezes Cas’s hand, “You are, but you won’t be soon.”

Cas sighs dramatically and decides to pass the time by watching the scenery go by. It’s pretty along this highway. The curvy road is surrounded by trees and lush bushes. There’s no one else on the road this early except for them. The sun is now behind them, half-way above the horizon, golden tendrils reaching for the blue sky. When the highway curves right, the ocean appears on the left side of the car, sparkling blue, white caps off in the distance rolling in towards the shore. Cas wants to ask more questions, but holds back. Dean isn’t going to tell him anything. The road rises upward, gaining elevation, darting away from the ocean. They are surrounded by trees now. Dean turns off the highway to the left along a gravel road. Cas sits up excitedly in his seat; Dean chuckles at him.

“Hey Cas?” Dean says, slowing the car to the stop in the middle of the gravel road.

“Yes?”

“Can you close your eyes?” He asks with a mischievous grin.

Cas nods, slamming his eyes shut, squinting.

Dean starts driving again, gravel grinds against the wheels loudly and birds sing from the treetops. After a few hundred feet, at least from what Cas can tell, Dean pulls to a stop, releasing Cas’s hand so he can park the car.

“Okay, so just stay right where you are and no peeking,” Dean commands.

“Alright,” Cas says hesitantly. _What is Dean doing?_

Dean gets out of the car, the door creaking shut. His shoes crunch against the gravel as he walks around the car. Cas waits patiently. His side door opens and Dean takes one of his hands.

“Stand up and I’ll lead you the rest of the way.” Cas rises to his feet, careful not to bump his head on the top of the impala. He grabs his oxygen tank; Dean closes the door. The air filtering into his nose in the spaces of his oxygen tubes is fresh and piney; they must be in the woods. Dean leads him a few steps forward and then stops.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” Dean says softly from beside him with a slight squeeze of his hand.

Cas opens his eyes and lets out a gasp. In front of him stands a small wooden cabin. A long porch wraps around the front with two white wicker chairs turned slightly towards each other. Flower boxes hang in front of the checkered windows, little daisies and petunias growing in the soft dirt. In the window behind the two chairs, dark purple curtains hang on the inside. The wood looks golden in the light of the sunrise making the entire cabin glow like something out of a dream.

“Dean,” Cas says slowly, “What is this?”

Dean comes up behind him wrapping his arms around Cas’s waist and resting his head on Cas’s shoulder.

“It’s yours,” Dean replies softly, turning his head to the side and kissing Cas’s cheek.

Cas turns around and stares at Dean in shock, “You didn’t.”

Dean did _not_ just buy a house for him.

“I did,” Dean says with a shining smile. “All of this,” Dean says motioning to the woods surrounding the small cabin, “is yours.”

“Oh my god,” Cas breathes, hand covering his mouth. Tears are rushing to his eyes and he is helpless to stop them. Dean lets go of him and jogs up the front steps, fishing a key out of his pocket putting it into the lock and turning the key. The door unlocks with a satisfying click.

“Tada!” Dean yells and Cas laughs, as tears trickle down his cheeks.

Cas wants to move, he wants to join Dean on the porch and explore the inside of his new home, but he’s frozen in place, eyes darting around, his hand still covering his mouth. He’s too in shock. This is too wonderful to be real; _Dean_ is too wonderful to be real. Cas can already see them sitting out on the porch in the evenings, the cool summer air drifting around them, birds chirping in the trees as they settle down for the evenings. They’ll be able to see the stars out here. The cabin is far enough from the city that the stars won’t be dimmed from the lights of civilization.

“Cas?” Dean says, breaking Cas from his trance. He looks up at Dean.

“Yes?”

“Do you wanna see the inside?”

Cas nods enthusiastically. He grabs ahold of his oxygen tank and slowly moves to the front door, climbing up the three steps. Dean takes his hand when he reaches the landing with a soft smile. He turns the knob, pushing the heavy, oak door open with a loud creak.

“Welcome home,” Dean says with a wink and Cas shakes his head at him. Cas is still crying, he’s not sure if he can stop.

They walk hand and hand through the entryway, Cas gazes around in wonder squeezing Dean’s hand for dear life. There’s a part of him that is afraid this isn’t real, that he’s really only dreaming again and he will wake up in a few minutes alone, in the dark and disappointed.

The floors are hardwood, a lightly glazed cedar that glints in the light. To Cas’s left is a small kitchen, with fridge in the corner, oven, counter space, cupboards, a round table with two chairs and a sink that looks out the main front window. Cas releases Dean’s hand, wandering in, fingers brushing against every surface. The curtains flutter in the breeze and Cas can see the impala out the window. He loves it. He gives Dean a warm smile, walking back over, taking his hand and they continue on throughout the house.

They come to the living room next. Two love seats and a three person couch make a large semi-circle around a large brick fireplace. There’s a window to the right of the couch that faces out towards the forest. A stack of wood sits next to the fireplace, waiting for the cold winter months to be burned and fill the cabin with warmth. Cas has always wanted a fireplace, he hopes he gets the chance to use it.

The final room at the end of the hallway is the bedroom. Cas pauses in front of the closed door, resting for a moment. He’s not walking strenuously, but lately his lungs have been working at less of a capacity then they used to, causing him to stop and take a few deep breaths before he can walk again. Once he feels he’s ready, Cas opens the door and steps into the room, Dean at his side. A four-poster bed stands five feet from him, a red and black plaid comforter covers the neatly made bed. Two nightstands, one with a lamp the other with a white telephone sit on either side of the bed. To the right there is another door, open, leading to the bathroom and closet. A large window is to the left, facing the west. Cas walks over to the window, staring out at the beautiful view of the trees. His eyes pick up on a sliver of blue behind the trees and he lets out a gasp.

“Dean, is that the ocean?”

“Maybe.”

“Is there a path that leads from here to a cliff that overlooks the ocean?”

Dean shrugs, the hint of a smirk on his face, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?!”

“I saved the best part for last.”

Cas stares at Dean, “You – you… you literally found the perfect cabin, just like in my dream.”

“It took a lot of searching, I had to go to about ten different realtors before I found anything remotely close to what you wanted, but I really wanted to get this for you, for us,” Dean says, taking a step forward, placing his hands on Cas’s hips.

“You didn’t have to do all this, Dean,” Cas says honestly, reaching up and wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck.

“I know, I just… I want your last few months to be perfect, I want you to be happy.”

Cas rises up slightly on his toes and kisses Dean, fingers stroking the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I wish there was something grand I could do for you as well,” Cas says.

Dean shakes his head, hands falling to his sides, fingers tangling with Cas’s, “Nah, I just need you, that’s it.”

“But what about after I di-“

“Don’t,” Dean says, voice firm, “Don’t think about that, not now, not here.”

There’s a pause and Cas frowns, mad at himself for bringing up the elephant in the room.

“Even _when_ you die, nothing you could possibly give me will take your place. I’d rather have you above anything else.”

Cas nods, “I know.”

Dean gives him a half-smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Cas’s head, “Now come on, let’s go outside.”

They walk hand in hand out of the house. Dean locks the door, pocketing his keys before taking Cas’s hand again. Dean takes Cas’s oxygen tank with his free hand and pulls it along behind them as they start out down the narrow dirt path. Normally he lets Cas drag his oxygen tank around by himself, but when they are walking for longer than just a few hundred feet, Cas doesn’t get as tired if Dean helps him. They walk slow, enjoying the warm golden light filtering through the trees, illuminating their way through the dark forest. Cas mostly gazes around himself at the beauty of his new home, he wants to take it all in. Cas doesn’t understand why Dean loves him so much, but he’s sure glad he does.

Near the end of the trail, Cas has to stop to take a rest. Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s waist, holding him steady and Cas just breathes, deep and evenly until he is ready. They continue on, the trees creating somewhat of an arch over their heads before clearing to reveal an open panoramic view of the ocean. The sun is at their backs, reflecting off the surface of the sea causing the surface to sparkle like thousands of diamonds. Rocks jut out of the water, waves splashing up against them. Seagulls fly across the sky, arching then swooping down low, the tips of their wings skimming the water. Cas takes in a startled gasp and grins.

"Dean," Cas whispers and Dean turns to him.

"Yeah?" He asks looking over at Cas with a smile.

"Thank you," Cas answers, voice choked.

Dean closes the distance between them and cups Cas’s face in his hands, staring at him for a few seconds before kissing the tip of his nose, his cheek, his forehead and finally his mouth. 

“I love you,” Cas whispers against Dean’s lips.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas, holding him tight against his body.

“I love you too.”

There’s a beat and then Cas asks, “When can we move in?”

Dean chuckles, sliding his arm around Cas’s shoulder, “As soon as you want to.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah sure, tonight is fine.”

The wind ruffles Cas’s hair, he closes his eyes, relishing in the salty, cool breeze.

“I can’t wait to tell Anna.”

“She already knows.”

Cas’s eyes fly open, “What?!”

“Well I can’t really steal you away along with all of your stuff and not tell your sister.”

“Oh,” Cas deadpans, that makes sense, “I’m sure she would’ve been displeased with that.”

“She said she’d help us move in whenever you are ready.”

“Good, then we move in tonight. I want to be able to wake up next to you tomorrow morning,” Cas states.

The ocean crashes in the distance and for a moment, Cas forgets that he’s dying.

\------

Later that afternoon, instead of one car parked in Dean and Cas’s small driveway, there are three. All of the trunks are open and the five of them – Sam, Jess, Anna, Cas and Dean - have a sort of system going on to get everything into the cabin as quickly and efficiently as possible. Sam, Jess and Anna do most of the lifting. Dean can do some, but Cas can’t do any and even if he could, Dean wouldn’t let him if he tried. Lifting things heavier than twenty pounds inhibits his breathing, sometimes causing him to have a coughing fit. Instead of lifting, Cas’s job is to stand inside the cabin and dictate where everything should go.

Dean carries in the lighter stuff, armfuls of his clothes and Cas’s clothes, piling them across the bed for the time being until they have time to hang the clothing up in their shared closet. He does what he can, carrying the small things, a few pictures to hang on the walls or place on the nightstand; the comforter, sheets and other fabric items that do not put strain on his body, specifically his mid-section.

Jess, Sam and Anna carry in the few heavier boxes full of dishes, books and memorabilia. The entire process doesn’t take that long, only about an hour. Sam brings the last box in, placing it on the coffee table in the living room with a flourish and a smile. The hard-working troupe collapses onto the couch and chairs with happy, relieved-to-be-finished smiles. Thankfully, Dean and Cas didn’t have that much stuff; it would’ve taken much longer had they been moving in together for longer than just a few months. Dean goes into the kitchen and brings out a tray of iced-tea, passing out the cool drinks to everyone.

After he finishes, Dean sets the tray on the table and perches on the arm of Cas’s chair, wrapping his arm around Cas’s shoulder and pecking his cheek. Cas grins and nuzzles into Dean’s shoulder, sliding his arm around Dean’s back.

“Would you all like to stay for dinner?” Cas asks the trio who are all splayed out on the couch. Sam is taking up most of it, Jess laying half-across him with her legs on Anna’s lap and Anna is pushed into the corner of the couch, legs tangled up with Sam’s.

Sam looks back and forth between Anna and Jess who both nod.

“Actually, we thought we would leave soon and go out to eat instead; leave you guys to spend some time alone together in your new home,” Sam replies.

“You don’t have to do that, we’d be happy if you stayed,” Cas says and Dean nods.

“We want to, it’s okay,” Anna pipes up with a grin, already starting to untangle her legs with Sam’s so she can stand up. Jess and Sam follow her, slowly standing up from the couch.

“Okay,” Cas consents. He rises from his chair and Dean follows, moving toward the front door to walk the three of them outside.  If he’s being honest with himself _he does_ want to spend the first night here with Dean and only Dean. It’s probably selfish, but who cares? He’s dying, he’s allowed to be selfish.

Gravel crunches beneath their feet as Dean and Cas walk their family out to the cars. They all exchange hugs and smiles.

“Thank you,” Cas says when he hugs Anna, burying his face in her red hair. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you.”

Anna pulls away and stares at him, “No, don’t be sorry! I’ve gotten to have the past ten years with you, I think it’s only fair that you get to spend your last few months with Dean.”

Cas smiles, pausing to brush one of Anna’s stray hairs behind her ear. “You’re wonderful,” Cas says softly, pulling Anna into another hug.

“I know,” Anna replies with a laugh.

Dean hugs Jess, thanking her for helping them move in and reminding her that in just one short month she’s going to be related to him. She giggles and reminds _him_ that becoming his sister-in-law allows her to tease him as much as she wants. Dean shrugs, it’s only fair after the amount of teasing he’s put her through for the past year. He hugs Sam last, arms lingering around his brother’s shoulders for a few moments.

“Thanks Sammy,” Dean says, clapping Sam on the back.

“For?”

Dean shrugs, “For everything. You know, being there for me through all this and for helping us move in.”

“Anytime,” Sam answers with a big grin.

Dean’s lips twitch up into a smile and he pushes Sam’s shoulder, “Now get out of here, and go get something to eat. I’m sure you guys are hungry.”

“Yes Mom,” Sam replies sassily, Dean flips him off as Sam heads over to the front door of his silver sedan.  

“Call us if you need anything!” Anna yells from her car.

Cas crosses over to Dean, grabbing Dean’s right hand and tangling their fingers together. Sam and Jess’s car starts up and then Anna’s, pulling out of the driveway one after the other. Dean and Cas wave good-bye, watching them drive away.

“Alone at last,” Dean says with a sigh, turning to Cas, cupping Cas’s cheek in his palm. The sun is in the west, a fiery gold. The light dashes across Cas’s cheeks; he looks otherworldly, too beautiful to be real. Dean leans in and kisses him sweetly.

“What do you wanna do first?” Dean asks, releasing Cas’s cheek.

“I don’t want to unpack any boxes, I know that,” Cas says with a frown, glancing towards the house. In the kitchen window a tower of boxes can be seen from the driveway. They have so much to do.

“We don’t have to do that tonight, we can wait until tomorrow,” Dean says. Cas nods, contemplating for a moment, then he suddenly smiles.

“I would like to see the sunset,” Cas states, gazing off down the little trail to where the ocean is hidden behind the dense forest of trees.

“Good idea,” Dean replies, “You wanna get something to eat first? We’ve still got at least two hours before the sun starts to set.”

“Yes, food would be good.”

They have to move a few of the lighter boxes off of the stove and dining room table, moving the intrusive items to the couch for the time being. It’s slow work, neither of them can pick up a single box by themselves, they have to work together. At first Dean tries to lift one of the boxes himself and ends up hissing in pain the moment the cardboard is four inches away from the table. He nearly drops the box due to a sharp stab of pain in his abdomen. His hand clutches his side and Cas rushes over to him.

“Are you alright?” Cas asks, brow furrowed in worry. Dean nods slowly, eyes closed, his hand still pressing firmly against the left side of his stomach.

“I think so. I guess I shouldn’t lift things by myself, huh?”

Cas shakes his head, arm sliding around Dean’s waist. He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss against Dean’s cheek.

“I think you should be more careful,” Cas reminds him.

Sometimes it seems as if Dean is so preoccupied with taking care of Cas that he forgets about himself. Cas knows that Dean is in pain a lot of the time, that his stomach and joints ache from the disease raging in his body, but he never complains. Cas has tried to bring it up a few times, to remind Dean that it’s okay to ask for help, that Cas doesn’t mind taking care of him. Dean closes off, always using the excuse that Cas is more sick than him, that _he_ needs to be taken care of first, but sometimes, Cas thinks that Dean forgets he’s dying, or maybe he just wants to forget.

Eventually, the table and stove are clear enough to be able to cook and eat on. Dean finds a pan laying around, rinses it clean and fills it with hot water, placing it on the stove to boil. Cas digs around the cupboards and finds a jar of tomato sauce and a box of angel hair pasta. Dean hums some Led Zeppelin song Cas can’t remember the name to under his breath while they wait for the water to boil. Dean is smiling now. He looks like he feels better, the aching in his stomach obviously gone from a few minutes ago. Cas watches him with rapt attention, memorizing the dash of freckles right above his top lip and the smooth way his fingers curl around the handle of the spoon resting on the counter next to the heating water. Dean’s fingers occasionally brush his, tangling together, in gentle touches. It is so beautifully domestic and a kind of happiness Cas never dreamed he would ever get to have with Dean.

“How did you manage to do all this?” Cas asks suddenly, carefully watching Dean’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean _this,_ the house, the location; everything is perfect, even the view is perfect. I’m certain this wasn’t cheap and with the cost of chemo and hospital bills, how could you afford this?”

Dean pauses, stirring the pasta one, two, three times before answering.

“I had some money saved up. I earned a lot of money at my job over the years and I always put a little aside each month for some day in the future when I wanted to retire or something. I didn’t know _what_ I was saving the money for I just knew that one day it would come in handy and I was right.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know I didn’t _have_ to but I _wanted_ to. You’ve always been there, even when you weren’t in my life for twenty fucking years Cas, you were still always there in the back of my mind. I wanted to see you again so that I could have the chance to give you everything. That’s all I want Cas, to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Cas stares at Dean for a few brief seconds in amazement. He grabs Dean’s hand, pulling him away from the stove and pressing him up against the fridge. The spoon previously in Dean’s hand clatters against the metal pot.

“I love you,” Cas states, then leans in and kisses him.

Cas’s hands wander, sliding up Dean’s chest; his arms wrapping around Dean’s neck, fingers clasped. Dean grabs his hips, gently but firmly pulling Cas against him. Their lips meld together, breaths mingling and Cas heart races when Dean’s fingers slide beneath his t-shirt and brush against his skin. They trail up his chest pressing lightly. Dean’s hand slide up Cas’s sides, pulling a gasp out of Cas’s mouth. Cas feels like he can’t breathe, but in a good way. Dean’s kisses always make him feel breathless, but this time, here in this place that is wholly theirs everything feels so much more intimate.

A hissing noise jolts them out of being lost in one another; the pasta is boiling over.

“Shit,” Dean mutters, pulling away and rushing over to the stove, turning down the burner and giving the noodles a few slow stirs. The water boils down, rolling and bubbling at a normal pace. Cas starts laughing and soon Dean is too.

“I guess we got a little distracted,” Cas says, with a bemused expression.

“I guess so. At least we didn’t burn down the house.”

“Well, it is only our first day here, who knows what damage we could do,” Cas deadpans and Dean busts up into a fit of laughter. Dean’s laugh is a joyous, ringing sound and it makes Cas happy, so fucking happy.

The noodles finish cooking a few minutes later. Cas dishes up half of the pasta for himself and the other half for Dean into two periwinkle blue ceramic bowls with white swans along the rims. He hands Dean his bowl and takes his own bowl to the table, sitting down with a heavy sigh. Standing for extended periods of time is difficult and if he doesn’t sit down, his muscles start to weaken, mostly due to a lack of oxygen. Dean sets his bowl down at the table but doesn’t sit down, instead he walks over to the fridge and pulls out a fancy looking champagne bottle with gold wrapping.

“So I know we’re both not supposed to drink alcohol, but since this is a special occasion I figured we could break the rules for one night,” Dean states with a grin, popping open the bottle and pouring the fizzy liquid into two small mugs. They don’t have wine glasses, so mugs will have to do.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Cas replies with a wink at Dean.

“Deal.”

Dean sits down across from Cas at the small dining room table and holds up his mug.

“Shall we toast?”

“What are we toasting to?”

“To us?”

Cas smiles, holding up his mug and clinking it with Dean’s, “To us.”

They both take a long sip of the champagne, the fizzy liquid burns as it goes down.

“You know, Dean, you say that _I_ am the sappy one, but I am not sure that is entirely true,” Cas states skeptically, returning his mug to the wooden table with a quiet clunk.

“Yeah well, what can I say men in love do strange things,” Dean replies, picking up his fork and starting to stabbing a few noodles with it.

Cas shakes his head and chuckles. _Oh, Dean._

They eat in companionable silence for a while, enjoying each others company, eventually talking about casual things, nothing too deep, and nothing too emotional for the time being. This day is too happy to put a damper on things. Domesticity is something they both have dreamed about for ages, but never imagined they would ever get to have together. It’s the start of their new life together, however short that life may be.

Through the window, just hovering over the expanse of trees, the sun slowly begins to slip down the horizon.

 ------

The golden light shining in through the windows changes to a dark orange accenting the different browns in the wooden table. Cas glances out at the sky, finding that the sun has sunk low; they should probably start walking towards the trail if they want to catch the sunset at the perfect time.

“Dean, we should probably leave soon,” Cas says. Dean turns to look over his shoulder out at the sky, gaze resting for a moment on the way the impala’s shiny black paint glints in the light. Dean nods.

“I’ll go put the bowls in the sink.”

Cas rises from his chair and walks down the hallway into the bedroom. He pushes a few boxes aside and shuffles through the pile of clothes on the bed, shoving most of them onto the floor trying to find his jacket. He finds his trench coat and slides it on. It may be the end of July but in the evenings the temperature drops and warmer clothing is necessary. Cas leaves the bedroom and heads to the front door where Dean is waiting for him, leather jacket already on. He takes Dean’s hand, and smiles up at him.

“Let’s go.”

They walk slowly through the forest. Branches crack underneath their shoes and somewhere nearby an owl hoots way up in the trees, finally coming out for the night after a long day of hibernating away from the sunlight. Brilliant oranges and fiery reds dance across the sky, filtering through the trees as the sun falls. At twilight the forest is a peaceful wonderland.

Eventually the trees clear in front of them, arching away to reveal the sparkling ocean, crashing against the soft sandy beaches hundreds of feet below them. They stop a few feet from the edge of the cliff, and their timing is impeccable. Across the horizon the bottom of the sun’s curve is touching the place where sea meets sky, exploding the horizon into bright reds, deep purples and flashy oranges.

“Wow,” Dean breathes, lips slowly curving up into a smile.

As the sun begins to fall away beneath the horizon, the sky darkens, pastel pinks turning into deep ruby reds. The sunset won’t last much longer. Dean turns to Cas, reaching out to take Cas’s other hand within his.

“It’s beautiful,” Cas says.

“Yeah, it sure is,” Dean admits, but he isn’t looking at the sky, he’s looking at Cas.

Dean takes a step forward, closing the distance between them; the sun is half-way hidden by the horizon.

He let’s go of one of Cas’s hands, fingers moving up to his cheek, trailing along his jawline, thumb brushing against his bottom lip. Cas smiles, just a small smile, the side of his lips tipping up in an innocent sort of way.

Their lips meet and it’s not passionate, it’s slow and gentle and chaste. It’s a lingering, sweet kiss and Dean’s lips meld against Cas’s perfectly.  Dean’s fingers slide along the back of Cas’s neck, sending a spark of shivers down his spine. They separate slowly. Dean is smiling softly, fingertips still brushing against Cas’s cheek. The sun is almost hidden now; a splash of orange soars across the sky. He reaches up and grabs the collar of Dean’s jacket, pulling him in for another kiss. His kiss is passionate, speaking of purpose and need. When Cas pulls away his hands are shaking, mind racing and every thought in his head rushes out all at once.

“Dean… can we… I mean only if you’re feeling up to it, I know that sometimes your stomach hurts too bad and if it is that’s fine I understand I just… really need you and-“

Dean silences Cas’s rambling with another kiss.

“I’m feeling fine, are _you_ feeling okay? I don’t wanna hurt you,” Dean replies. His hand slides down from Cas’s cheek to take Cas’s hand again.

Cas nods, “I’m fine.” He pauses for a few seconds before continuing, “I need you.”

“Okay,” Dean says, pressing a kiss against Cas’s forehead, “Let’s go home.”

They walk slowly along the trail back towards the house. There is no need to rush, they have time. The cool ocean breeze ruffles the tail of Cas’s coat, causing it to flap against the back of his legs as he walks. He feels a sense of anticipation, an electric current in the air around them, prickling under his skin and enveloping him with a want that runs deeper than just lust. Trees sway around them in the strong wind, their branches bending, blocking out the already dim light. Between the spaces in the limbs of the trees, the last bits of sunlight trickle in creating a kaleidoscope across the forest floor, guiding Dean and Cas home. The owl hoots again this time off in the distance, a haunting sound, eerie yet peaceful at the same time. Dirt changes to gravel and the small cabin comes into view. It’s nearly dark now, the sky a dark cobalt peppered with twinkling stars that lighten in the west. Light streams from the cabin windows, casting a warm glow around their little home. Cas pulls on Dean’s hand, dragging Dean toward the house with an exuberant grin.

At the top of the steps Cas slides his arms around Dean’s neck and kisses him deeply, pressing him up against the front door. Dean eagerly kisses back, tugging on Cas’s coat until it’s off and on the front porch in a tan heap. Cas dips his fingers into Dean’s front pocket, digging out the house key and sliding it into the lock with a click. He only stops kissing Dean long enough to pull open the door and grab his oxygen tank. Once inside Cas finds himself pressed up against the inside of the door. Dean’s hands are needy, touching every part of Cas that he can. Cas doesn’t know how they will make it to the bedroom. Dean guides him forward down the hallway a few steps, still kissing him, but Cas’s hand is trapped, his oxygen tubes are wrapped around his wrist. He abruptly pulls away and starts giggling. Dean stops and fixes him with an extremely confused look.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, coming up to Cas and placing a gentle hand on his waist.

“As much as I would love to make out with you all the way down the hallway to our room I don’t think this is going to work,” Cas laughs, gesturing at his oxygen tank.

Dean’s lips twitch and he scrubs a hand over his mouth, trying desperately to hold back his laughter, but failing.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work either. We’ll just have to walk down the hallway instead of attempting to be romantic.”

“What a shame,” Cas deadpans and Dean snorts. He reaches down taking ahold of Cas’s hand twining their fingers together and leads Cas down the hall.

Dean pushes open the door; the newly risen moon casts white light into the darkened bedroom and shadows dance merrily across the walls. Cas pauses in the doorway, a prick of nervousness creeping up within him. He really shouldn’t be nervous – this isn’t the first time they’ve had sex, but for some reason this feels different. Everything feels heavier, more emotional. Maybe it’s because they are in _their_ home, their own place together, finally.  After so many years of yearning and wanting exactly _this_ , Cas finally has what he’s always wanted and he doesn’t know how to deal with the feelings that brings up in him. His hand not enclosed within Dean’s is trembling. Dean notices – of course – and takes it gently.

“You nervous?”

Cas nods slowly, “Yes, though I don’t quite understand why.”

Dean bites his lip and ducks his head shyly, “S’okay, me too.”

Dean drops Cas’s hand and slides his arm around Cas’s waist, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Cas’s hands slide underneath Dean’s shirt, running his fingers slowly across Dean’s warm skin. Cas helps Dean pull off his t-shirt, tossing it over his shoulder where it knocks something over with a quiet thud. They both laugh and kiss again. Cas’s hands grace up Dean’s sides, just touching simply to touch. Dean helps Cas get his shirt off, threading his oxygen tubes through the holes, until Cas is free and his shirt drops to the floor.

“That’s better,” Cas says, replacing his oxygen tubes inside his nose with a little smile.

“Much better,” Dean says grabbing Cas’s hips and pulling him over to the bed, brushing a kiss on his cheek.

“Where do you want your oxygen?” Dean asks.

Cas drags his oxygen tank to the side of the bed and presses it up alongside the mattress as close as he can.

“Right here is fine, I just need to be close enough so that I can get air,” Cas replies.

Cas runs his hand up Dean’s arm placing his hand on Dean’s bare shoulder. He brings his lips to Dean’s softly; their noses bump and Dean smiles.

Cas finds himself on the bed a few minutes later, Dean hovering over him kissing him in as many places as he possibly can. Dean’s breath is warm, his lips barely grazing Cas’s skin as he kisses down Cas’s chest. There’s a little flutter in Cas’s stomach every time Dean kisses his neck or runs his fingers along Cas’s collarbone. Being this close to Dean in such an intimate way moves something deep within his soul. Placing his hands on Dean’s hips Cas surges up and kisses him, long and hard, hoping that through the way his hands press into Dean’s skin and the tenderness of his kisses, Dean will grasp how Cas truly feels about him. Dean is his everything.

Dean undresses him slowly, with purpose, delicate hands tracing the lines and curves of Cas’s body. He presses kisses onto the soft flesh of Cas’s thighs, the dip of his navel and at the bend of his knee. He leaves no bare spot of skin untouched. Cas stares up at him, pupils blown wide. His hands tangle in Dean’s hair, pulling at the strands as Dean draws soft noises of pleasure out of him. When his naked body is bared to the light of the moon and Dean’s eyes, his hands flutter against the mattress, aching for something to cling to for some sort of grounding. He doesn’t like being exposed before the world.  Dean leans back and just looks at him, lips tilted up into a smile. Cas quirks his head quizzically at Dean, but Dean shakes his head, grinning, leaning down to peck Cas’s nose.

“You’re beautiful.”

Cas turns his head away, lips tipping up as he shakes his head.

“You are,” Dean insists.

Cas chuckles lightly, “I believe you are a bit biased, Dean.”

Dean shrugs, a tiny smirk on his face, “Yeah, well what can I say? I’m pretty sure I’m in love with an angel, I think I’m allowed to be a little biased.”

Cas rolls his eyes, “You’re ridiculous.”

Dean grins hovering over him and whispering against Cas’s lips, “And you’re still beautiful.”

Cas gives up on arguing after that. The euphoria caused by Dean’s kisses and loving hands taking over, leaving him gasping and a fire building beneath his skin. It’s getting harder to breathe, only not in a bad way. He feels like he’s dying, but only because he’s so overwhelmed.

Dean opens him up slowly, taking his time, being so incredibly gentle. Dean holds him, pressing soft kisses along the underside of his jaw. Cas trembles beneath him, hands clinging to Dean leaving marks on his skin from pressing so hard. Dean breathes,”I love you’s” into the air, the words floating in a haze around them, wrapping them up and dissolving into Cas’s skin. This isn’t just having sex for either of them. It’s deep it’s emotional and so weighed down with meaning, and Cas is drowning, but he never wants to come back up for air. When Dean finally slides into him, Cas lets out a broken gasp, clenching Dean’s shoulder. Tears well up in his eyes, not from pain, but from how much he is feeling. Dean freezes and comforting hands dance across Cas’s body.

“Are you okay?”

Cas nods slowly, reaching up to brush his hand against Dean’s cheek, “I’m fine, just fine. Don’t stop.”

He thrusts slowly, every jolt of his hips sending shockwaves of pleasure through Cas’s veins. Dean comes first, crying out Cas’s name in a broken sob, hands clutching Cas’s waist, his whole body shuddering. Cas follows soon after, burying his face in the crook of Dean’s shoulder. Dean holds him through his orgasm until Cas stops shaking. Tears are suddenly trickling down his cheeks and he doesn’t know why he’s crying, he just is. Cas looks up at Dean and kisses him and realizes, Dean’s crying too.

“Why are we crying?” Cas asks through his tears, chuckling as he tries to brush the wetness off of his and Dean’s cheeks with the back of his hand.

“I don’t know,” Dean replies, laughing and pressing kisses on Cas’s forehead and damp cheeks.

Dean turns over on his side, wrapping one arm around Cas’s waist the other slung up around his head, trailing his fingers through Cas’s thin hair. Cas snuggles up against Dean’s front, closing his eyes, enjoying the tingles that run down his spine as Dean strokes his hair. He slides his hand up and finds Dean’s where it’s pressed against his stomach, slotting their fingers together.

“I love you,” Cas whispers, squeezing Dean’s hand. He feels very tired now – that took a lot out of him, but he is blissfully happy.

Dean smiles from behind him, pressing a kiss into Cas’s hair, “I love you too.”

His arm tightens around Cas’s waist, pulling Cas as close against him as is possible. They are pressed tightly together, naked bodies so entwined you cannot tell one from the other.  Dean falls asleep first, snoring lightly against the back of Cas’s neck. Cas stays awake for a while, listening to Dean’s soft, even breathing. Moonlight shines in through the window, casting a spotlight onto Dean’s peaceful face.  It might have taken twenty years, but they are finally together in their own home. It was well worth the wait.


	5. Chapter 5

In the week following Dean and Cas’s move-in to their new place a sense of peace settles over them like a warm blanket. Maybe it’s because of the quiet and seclusion where the only sounds other than the whistling wind are the birds chirping and nature coming to life in the evenings after the sun has set. Since they both lived in or near the city for so long, being so far away from the hustle and bustle of urban life is a nice change. While things become incredibly peaceful for Dean and Cas, Sam and Jess start to reach the last-few-weeks-before-the-wedding panic stage. Whenever Sam comes over to visit Dean and Cas for a while in between meetings about wedding planning he looks severely frazzled and stressed, clothes disheveled and a fear present in his eyes that they might not get everything done in time. He expresses his worry to Dean, raking his fingers through his long floppy hair. He wants everything to be perfect for Jess. Dean pats Sam on the shoulder and tells him everything is going to be fine and awesome, because it will be. This doesn’t quell Sam’s nerves very much, but at least he knows Dean and Cas have his back.

August 8th arrives quickly and as Dean slips into his suit that morning Cas can tell he is a ball of nervous and jubilant energy. His baby brother is getting married today, it’s a normal thing to be freaking out. Cas only wishes that John and Mary could be here to see this. If only those teenagers hadn’t been drinking and driving, John and Mary might still be here to see their youngest son get married. But he can’t change that, he can’t change any of the bad things that have ever happened to Dean, though he would if he could. Cas helps Dean fix his tie, then turns him around in front of the mirror in their bathroom pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You look so handsome,” Cas says with a smile.

Dean looks at Cas who is also wearing a black suit and a blue tie that he insisted on wearing backwards – it’s his thing.

“So do you.”

The drive out to Jess’s family’s cottage in Napa Valley is pleasant. Thankfully, the weather decided to be courteous and stay at a nice and cool seventy-five degrees. Not too hot and not too cold, the perfect temperature for a summer wedding. Dean and Cas get there a few hours before the ceremony, pulling up the long tree-lined driveway to the huge white cottage. Sam is standing outside the front of the cottage, pacing back and forth nervously, hands stuffed inside his pockets. Dean stops the impala and leans back in his seat, chuckling at Sam.

“Damn, he sure is nervous,” Dean says with a grin.

“I can’t understand why, Jess is a wonderful woman,” Cas states.

“It’s not that, Sammy’s probably just worried he’s going to fuck up their vows or something.”

Cas huffs out a laugh, watching as Sam spots them and waves enthusiastically, a bright smile on his face.

“Oh Sam.”

Sam half-jogs over to the impala, reaching the car just as Dean steps out. He grabs him, pulling him into a hug.

“Dean, you’re here!”

Dean snorts, patting Sam’s back, “Well duh, what did you think – that I was going to dip out on you?”

Sam backs up, glancing at the ground and shaking his head, “No, I just – I feel less nervous now that you’re here.”

Dean grins, “Aw, I’m touched. It’s like that time your junior year of high school when you went to prom and you were so nervous you practically shit your pants when Sarah’s parents dropped her off at our house.”

“Dean,” Sam grits out, glaring at him. Cas dissolves into a fit of laughter.

Dean shrugs, “What, it was cute.”

Sam rolls his eyes, fixing Dean with his best bitch face, “I hate you.”

Dean bats his eyelashes at Sam, “I love you too, Sammy.”

Sam groans and storms off towards the house, leaving Dean and Cas clutching at each other in laughter.

Dean and Cas go into the house and wander around eventually finding Sam in the upstairs bathroom obsessively fixing his tie and running his fingers through his hair.

“Hello, Sam” Cas says warmly, coming up beside Sam with a pleasant smile on his face.

“Hey Cas,” Sam replies distractedly, fidgeting with his tie and frowning when he realizes that it’s off-kilter. He quickly undoes the fabric with a heavy sigh and starts redoing the knot when Dean slaps his hand away.

“Sam, stop. Let me do it.”

Sam drops his hands and turns toward Dean, letting Dean retie the knot correctly. Dean smooths down the fabric once he’s done, patting Sam’s tie, lips twitching into a smile.

“There.”

Sam stares back into the mirror, adjusting his suit jacket. He smiles softly at Dean and Cas.

“Thanks guys. I’m kind of freaking out.”

“We know,” Cas says, placing his hand on Sam’s shoulder sympathetically.

“You’re gonna be fine, Sam. Jess thinks you are the best thing since sliced bread. Just relax.”

“I know,” Sam says taking in a deep, calming breath, “I know.”

Dean checks his watch. One hour until show time.

“Now go downstairs and start greeting people. I didn’t raise you to be rude,” Dean orders, slapping Sam right on the ass. Sam lets out a yelp and glares at Dean over his shoulder as he runs down the stairs.

Dean and Cas follow Sam downstairs fifteen minutes later after a quick and heated make out session against the bathroom counter. How can they resist each other when they are both dressed to the nines and attending a wedding? After all, no wedding is truly complete without someone making out in a bathroom somewhere, they might as well take one for the team. However, they are smart enough to remember to fix their hair and flatten out their suits before leaving the bathroom. They don’t want to be _obvious._

They run into Jess on their way downstairs. She’s not in her wedding dress yet, wearing a pair of jeans and a button up shirt. Her hair is already done, soft blonde curls flowing down past her shoulders. She looks beautiful already and Dean tells her so. She thanks him with a smile before running past him, clearly in a rush to get ready.

Once they get down to the main part of the cottage, they go outside, walking along the neat, gravel pathway to the vineyard. Along the edge of the vineyard a white archway has been set up. Fifty white wicker chairs line out from the arch in ten neat rows of five, aisle ways strung together by a sheer piece of white fabric tied to the top of each chair. Two large bouquets of light pink roses and bright yellow sunflowers sit near the end of each arch. Everything looks beautiful; Sam and Jess did a great job putting the wedding together.

A few of Jess’s family and friends begin to filter outside, finding seats in the rows of chairs. Dean and Cas take their seat in the front row, although they won’t be sitting there for very long, considering both of them are in the wedding party. There aren’t separate sections for Sam’s family and Jess’s family, since Sam’s family consists of Dean and Cas. Five younger men walk down the aisle and all sit together in one row. Dean guesses that they are friends of Sam’s from college. Dean watches as more people file in, all smiling happily as they take their seats in the rows behind him and Cas. Soon Sam comes jogging down the aisle, clearing his throat and taking his spot underneath the arch next to the pastor. Dean gets up from his chair and stands next to him and Cas stands on the other side of Dean. Sam is taking purposeful, deep even breaths, hands clasped in front of him. Dean nudges him with his arm.

“Calm down, you’re just getting married, not stopping the apocalypse.”

Sam narrows his eyes at Dean, nudging him back.

“Shut up.”

Cas chuckles, leaning forward and looking past Dean, “Honestly Sam, I highly doubt even Jess is as nervous as you are.”

“I’m fine, really,” Sam promises, smiling at Cas in an attempt at a genuine smile, but it comes out more as a grimace. Cas snorts, shaking his head.

Music begins to drift out of the speakers and Jess’s bridesmaids exit the house wearing light pink dresses and carrying small bouquets of sunflowers in their hands. Sam stands up ram-rod straight, lips set into a thin line. Cas watches Sam’s face, certain that Sam’s going to faint any second now from nervousness or fear. Jess’s two bridesmaids walk slowly down the aisle with cheery smiles on their faces and take their spots on the opposite side of the aisle. Sam sucks in a big breath as Jess rounds the corner.

Jess looks too beautiful to be real. Her long golden hair cascades over her shoulder in soft curls and a thin veil is draped over her head. Her wedding dress looks like something out of Victorian magazine, completely made out of lace with sheer cupped sleeves and a train that extends two feet behind her on the soft, green grass. Sam’s nervous smile breaks into a grin and he looks like he’s about to cry. She strides toward him, walking in time with the processional music. A bunch of sunflowers are in her hands, a long white ribbon wrapped around them.

When Jess reaches Sam she takes his hand gently within hers with a smile that shines brighter than the sun. Sam gulps, fighting back tears. They turned towards each other and the pastor begins to speak.

Their vows are simple and classic, the typical, “til’ death do us part, in sickness and in health.” Originally they were going to go with something different, more personal, but decided against it. Sam and Jess knew what they meant to each other, they didn’t need to tell everyone. The ceremony isn’t long and Dean _totally_ doesn’t cry when his brother says I do, _totally._ Cas holds his hand regardless, knowing that this is both a happy moment and extremely emotional for Dean. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the pastor says, smiling. “You may kiss your bride.”

Sam grins, releasing Jess’s hand and cupping her cheeks in his hands, leaning in and kissing her. Everyone erupts into cheers and clapping, Dean’s cheering the loudest of them all.

“Ladies and gentlemen I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester.”

Sam and Jess walk down the aisle, their arms intertwined with glowing smiles on their faces. Dean and Cas follow behind them, grinning almost as big as the newlyweds as they make their way towards the reception in the backyard. The smile on Sam’s face so full of pure joy and love warms Cas’s heart. He’s so happy for him. Dean squeezes Cas’s hand, turning to stare at him with a smile that matches Sam’s.

The reception area looks beautiful. Three, long white tables are set up in the middle of the grass, white wicker chairs, set up around them. On the tops of the tables are lacy tablecloths and vintage china, every utensil and plate in its proper place. Dean and Cas take their spots at the table for the wedding party next to Sam.

Sam has a permanent grin on his face and he looks like the little kid from so many years ago that Cas remembers. He keeps leaning over to Jess to whispers stuff into her ear and she laughes joyously at whatever he says.

“Sam looks very happy,” Cas says to Dean.

“He does. I’m proud of him,” Dean says. He is watching Sam with an expression of sadness and love. Cas places his hand on Dean’s shoulder comfortingly.

“I know this is hard for you,” he says.

Dean shakes his head, “Yeah, but not in the way you think. I’m happy for Sam. I really am, I just… I know that I’m gonna miss a ton of shit. I’m not gonna be able to see his future kids grow up, I won’t be able to see Sam turn into an old man with grey hair. I’m gonna miss all the important stuff and that’s what kills me.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean shrugs, turning his gaze away from Sam to Cas, “Hey, at least I got to see him get married. If I have to miss all the rest of his life, I’m glad I got to see at least this.”

Cas reaches underneath the table and interlaces their fingers together, squeezing Dean’s hand.  

“Me too.”

 ------

While Sam and Jess are gone on their honeymoon, Dean and Cas enjoy their time together at home. Sometimes they go out and into the city, to have dinner or sit along the shore and watch the waves crash against the beach. Other times they do nothing at all, staying in bed until noon wrapped up in each other until growling stomachs are too loud to ignore. Sometimes they don’t do anything and that’s okay too.

"Dean, can we go for a drive?" Cas asks one day, looking up at Dean from the couch. 

"You sure you’re up for that? I know you’ve been feeling pretty shitty latel-“

"Dean. I’m fine," Cas cuts him off, rising from the couch and walking over to Dean, pulling his oxygen tank behind him. 

"I don’t want to do anything that would make you worse," Dean mutters, pulling Cas against his chest.

Cas smiles at him and presses a chaste kiss against his lips.

"I know, but taking a drive along the coast is harmless, Dean."

Dean sighs in consent and rolls his eyes, “Fine, but you’re wearing two warm jackets and a hat.”

Cas tilts his head to the side and frowns, "Is that because you don’t want to see my bald head?"

"No, you lose heat from your head and I don’t want you to get too cold."

"Dean, I’m teasing you. I’ll wear however many articles of clothing you want as long as you stop  _worrying.”_

Ten minutes later Cas is in the passenger seat of the impala, snugly wrapped up in two thick coats and a woolen blanket. He also has a bright red beanie on his head. Dean slides into the driver’s seat and glances over at him with a chuckle. 

"You look like such a dork," Dean remarks as the impala roars to life.

" _You_ insisted I wear this useless item," Cas reminds him with a scowl. 

"Yeah, yeah I know. Good thing you’re a cute dork," Dean teases, leaning across the seat to give Cas a short kiss. 

When Dean pulls away, he takes Cas’s hand in his right one and squeezes gently. The drive is pleasant, the sun feels warm and comforting on Cas’s skin. He sings along with Dean to the Led Zeppelin song playing over the speakers. The ocean flies by Cas’s window, the sun sparkling off the water. He rolls the window down a few notches and closes his eyes, relishing the cool breeze that rushes into the car and sends a shiver down his spine. Seagulls swoop down from the sky, bellies just brushing the surface of the water before rising up and out of sight. Occasionally Cas glances over at Dean and stares for a while – he will never know how he got this lucky.

Some people may call their story tragic, which it is, but that’s not how Cas sees it. 

Even though they didn’t get to spend their lives together, they got the time that matters the most; the end.


	6. Chapter 6

In cancer support group, Castiel was taught about the “last good days.” Those few days at the end of a cancer patient’s life where they get to live normally, healthy and essentially without sickness. At the beginning of September, Castiel has a series of these exceptionally good days. His breathing is almost normal, lungs working at their full capacity. For those few days he doesn’t feel sick, he feels normal again. Dean and Cas travel around the Bay Area a lot on those days per Cas’s request. Since they’re both feeling good; they might as well go out and enjoy these fleeting moments of health.

Cas doesn’t know that these are his last few good days, but he has an inkling that this is it. The sand in his hourglass is running out at an alarming rate and he wants to cling to Dean until the last second, until he is forced to let go.

They go to explore Fisherman’s Wharf that week, parking the impala up on the hill and taking the trolley down to the waterfront. Thousands of people are around them basking in the warm late summer day. They walk hand-in-hand through the crowds to the pier, navigating down to the end where a large group of sea lions lay in the sun. It smells like salt, fish and seawater; the sea lions bark at each other and slap the wooden dock with their flippers. Dean smiles, sparkling and bright in the afternoon sun. Cas takes a mental snapshot of Dean happy and smiling, he wants to remember him like this. He doesn’t look forward to the day he wipes that smile off of Dean’s face.

Throughout the rest of the day he makes sure to hold Dean’s hand a little tighter, kiss him a little longer and stare at him until Dean asks him why he keeps staring.

Cas can’t explain what he’s feeling or why he’s savoring every second like it’s their last, he doesn’t want to ruin the mood.

He simply smiles and replies, “You’re just too beautiful, Dean.”

Dean snorts, shaking his head and leans over to press a kiss against Cas’s cheek, “And you’re a sap.”

Cas’s lips break out into a grin, turning towards Dean he wraps his arms around his neck, “I am.”

“Yeah,” Dean nods, placing his hands on Cas’s hips, his lips twitching, “You are one big fucking sap.”

Cas leans in and kisses him deeply, melding their lips together and threading his fingers through Dean’s hair. Dean tastes likes sunrise and lightning, a dangerous combination that makes Cas go weak at the knees. He never wants this to end.

Three golden sunsets and countless kisses later, everything goes to hell in a hand basket.

At two in the morning on September 12th, Cas wakes up gasping for air, arms flailing fingers clenching and unclenching trying to grab ahold of something, anything. He grips his throat, eyes slamming shut, wheezing two short breaths in and out. His chest hurts, everything hurts and he can’t breathe. His hands fumble up to his nose, checking to make sure his breathing tubes are there. He tries to calm down, taking a deep breath in through his tubes to steady his lungs, but it doesn’t work and he dissolves into a coughing fit. His right hand slides over and grabs Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean…” Cas manages to wheeze out. He’s doubled over now, tears sliding down his cheeks, left hand splayed against his thorax, fingers pressing into his collarbone. Maybe if he pushes harder enough air will come through. Dean jolts awake and his arms are around Cas in a second.

“What’s wrong?” Cas can hear the panic in Dean’s voice. Dean’s hands are frantically searching him.

“Can’t… breathe… hospital,” Cas says in between gasps, he’s hyperventilating now and he falls forward, head falling onto Dean’s shoulder.

Dean doesn’t reply, not even a hurried agreement. He wraps one arm around Cas’s back and the other around his legs, lifting him up into his arms. Cas’s face presses against Dean’s neck, his eyes are still slammed shut and he’s trying so hard to breathe, wheezing warm air against Dean’s neck.

Halfway down the hallway Cas realizes he’s in Dean’s arms and wraps his arms around Dean’s neck to steady himself. He clings to Dean’s arms out of fear. He’s not ready yet, he doesn’t want to die yet.

“I got you, hold on okay? I’ll get you there in time I promise,” Dean murmurs softly, kicking open the front door. Cas nods against Dean’s neck, his tears staining the fabric of Dean’s t-shirt.

Dean puts Cas down on his feet in front of the passenger door, opens the door and helps him slide in, running around to the other door, jumping in. The impala roars to life, lights flicking on and Dean tears out of the driveway. Gravel flies, hitting the windows of the cabin.

Dean speeds down the windy highway, the lone car gong ninety miles per hour on a road with speed limit signs marked fifty. He calculates if he goes ninety he will reach the hospital in twenty minutes. He hopes he can get there in time. Cas is slumped against the window, hands relaxed and splayed on the glass. His breathing is slower now, deep and labored. He breathes a heavy, wet, wheezy breath every fifteen seconds. It’s not good, but at least he’s still breathing. Dean glances over at Cas more often than he should at how fast he’s driving, just to make sure Cas is still alive. Dean has to make it to the hospital in time, he will never forgive himself if he doesn’t.

“Dean…” Cas says weakly and Dean’s head snaps to him. He places a hand on Cas’s shoulder.

“What is it? Are you okay?”

“I love you,” Cas says, a failed attempt at a smile on his face.

Dean bites his lip, shaking his head aggressively, “No, don’t you do that. Don’t start saying good-bye, not yet.”

“But Dean…” Cas mutters weakly.

“No, you’re going to make it there, I promise,” Dean says, gently squeezing Cas’s shoulder.

Cas nods, laying back against the seat and concentrating on his breathing. Every second that passes, his lungs continue closing, it’s getting harder to get enough air. He takes in a deep gulp of the pure oxygen from his tank, pressing his hand to his chest when he feels a sudden sharp pain, that can’t be good. 

The flashy orange of the bridge wizzes by in a blur, the bay water murky beneath them in the darkness. Cas holds on. They are almost to the hospital, just five more minutes. His head starts spinning, the headlights of oncoming cars twirling like a kaleidoscope in front of him. He slams his eyes shut and the spinning subsides a little, except now he feels like he’s on one of rides at a carnival; the ones where you spin the wheel in the middle and the faster you spin it the faster you go. He reaches over and grabs Dean’s hand, and the familiar curve of Dean’s fingers, the indents of his hand grounds him. ‘ _Hold on_ ,’ Cas thinks, ‘ _hold on for Dean’._

Dean speeds down the off-ramp of the highway, barely stopping at the stoplight before turning right onto the main road headed towards the hospital, tires squealing. If there are red lights, Dean doesn’t notice and doesn’t really care, driving straight through them like a bat out of hell. He reaches the emergency entrance of the hospital and jumps out of the car, throwing the impala’s keys to the half-asleep parking valet who fumbles to catch them. He pulls open Cas’s door and doesn’t even give him a chance to stand up before wrapping his arms around him and lifting him up. Cas doesn’t protest. He’s struggling for breath, his lungs only allowing short puffs of air in and out.

Dean carries him through the sliding doors and pauses in front of the nurse at the counter. She jumps up as soon as she sees Cas’s condition and rushes over to the two double doors, pulling them open.

“Follow me,” She orders and Dean follows her down the hallway to an empty hospital room. She grabs the curtain, pulling it aside and Dean gently lays Cas down on the bed. Cas instantly curls in on himself, coughing into his fist in between spurs of shallow quick breaths. Dean kneels beside the bed, hand still entangled with Cas’s.

“What’s his name?” The nurse asks, clipboard in hand.

“Castiel Novak. He has Stage Four Lung Cancer. He woke up thirty minutes ago and he was having trouble breathing. It’s just gotten worse since then,” Dean responds automatically on autopilot, keeping his eyes fixed on Cas. The nurse nods and runs out of the room. Forty-five agonizing seconds pass, Dean counts the time between Cas’s breaths and wheezes. Suddenly five nurses and a doctor are in the room, rushing around hooking IV bags to the metal stand above Cas’s bed, replacing his oxygen tubes with an oxygen mask and murmuring things Dean doesn’t understand under their breath.

The nurse from the desk places her hand on his shoulder.“Sir, you need to leave so they can help him,” She says softly.

Dean turns to her, shaking his head, then glancing back at Cas, “No, I won’t leave him.”

“He’s going to be okay, they just need to drain the fluid in his lungs,” She explains, most likely hoping to comfort him, it doesn’t work.

“No.”

“Sir, please,” She says firmly, almost pleading with him. Dean’s jaw twitches.

“Fine,” Dean bites out, giving Cas’s hand a squeeze. He rises to his feet and steps closer to the bed, pressing a kiss against Cas’s forehead.

“Hold on for me, you can fight this,” He says. Cas nods, staring up at him, with wide eyes. He’s so afraid. With one last lingering glance Dean leaves the room, brushing past the nurse. Cas watches him go, wishing he had the strength and ability to tell the doctor and nurses that he needs Dean with him, but he can’t. The doctor leans over him, saying something about a sedative and draining his lungs, Cas nods, not fully understanding, but agreeing to whatever will help. The world swirls in front of his eyes, one doctor becoming two and three. Dark spots flick across his vision and he tries to blink them away, but they get bigger and bigger until he’s enveloped into darkness.

 ------

Dean paces around the waiting room for a few minutes panicking before he realizes, _‘Shit, I need to call Anna.’_ Thankfully there’s a payphone around the corner and he beelines to it, digging through his pockets and wallet until he finds enough quarters for a phone call. He dials Anna’s number and taps his foot impatiently waiting for her to pick up. Maybe she won’t pick up, it is three in the morning. He’s ready to hang-up when Anna’s groggy voice comes over the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Anna, it’s Dean,” He tries really hard to keep his voice steady, but fails.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Anna asks, she’s awake now.

“It’s Cas,” Dean’s voice breaks at Cas’s name and he scrubs a hand over his face, “He… he woke about a half hour ago and couldn’t breathe so I drove him to the hospital and now they’re going to drain his lungs or something I don’t know, he’s going to be okay I guess, but I thought he was going to die, he looked so scared and they kicked me out because they needed to help him and I just… I don’t know,” Dean stops rambling, his voice choked.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. He’s going to be fine, everything’s going to be fine,” Anna says.

Dean nods, fighting back tears, “Okay,” is all he manages to say.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Anna says and then the line goes dead.

Dean hangs up the receiver with a click and rests his head against the wall, eyes closed. Fuck. A tear slides down his cheek and he angrily wipes it away. He lets out a heavy sigh, moving away from the wall. He needs to call Sam. As much as Anna is a good friend and Cas’s sister, he needs his brother.  Dean scrounges through his wallet again, looking for a few more quarters to put into the phone. He finds a dollar and drops the coins into the hole, dialing Sam’s number and trying to hold himself together.

“Hello, who is this?” Sam asks, his voice is scratchy from sleep. Dean can hear Jess in the background asking who is on the phone.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean chokes out.

“Dean, are you okay?! Is Cas okay?! What’s wrong?” Dean can hear the panic rising in his brother’s voice.

“It’s Cas. I’m... I’m at the hospital in the emergency room, he woke me up, he couldn’t breathe, they told me he’s going to be okay, but I just… I don’t know Sam, I don’t know, I don’t know…” Dean trails off. He probably sounds like a crazy person, rambling on and on incoherently, but he doesn’t know what to do.

“Dean, calm down, everything’s going to be okay,” Sam says slowly. On the other side of the line Dean clenches his fist.

“Why does everyone keep saying _that_?! What if everything’s not okay, huh? What if he’s really sick? He might… he might…” Dean can’t even let the word, “die” leave his lips, he doesn’t want to think about Cas dying. He’s always known that Cas’s death – and his own death – is inevitable, but that doesn’t make this any easier. Cas can’t die yet, they didn’t have enough time together, they’ve only had four months, four fucking months. One summer.

“Dean.”

“What?!”

“Take a deep breath,” Sam orders. Dean closes his eyes and takes in a gulp of air, holding it in a few seconds, then releases it with a heavy sigh.

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks Sammy,” Dean answers. He feels slightly calmer than he did a minute ago, but there’s still an itch of fear underneath his skin that he can’t shake off. He needs to go back in and see Cas, just to make sure that he’s still alive. He’s scared, so fucking scared of losing Cas and not getting to say good-bye, again.

“Jess and I are leaving right now, try to stay calm until we get there and don’t kill the nurses,” Sam says and Dean huffs.

“Yeah, well… I’m not going to make any promises.”

“I know, hang in there. I’ll be there soon.”

Dean hangs up the phone and rounds the corner, finding an empty chair in the waiting room – which isn’t too hard considering it is three in the morning and there’s only one other person besides him. He sits down near the small television attached to the wall, trying to focus on the flashing screen full of infomercials, but the fancy new brand of vacuum is doing nothing for him right now.  Idly, he picks up one of the magazines, something about racecars. He knows everything written down in the articles, but he reads them anyway. The familiarity of cars and their inner workings eases him somehow. His eyes glide over the words, taking in the details of parts and tune-ups he’s done thousands of times. Dean filters out any thoughts floating around his head of, “What if this? What if that?” and focuses, tunneling in on the small print and shiny paint.

Anna gets to the hospital first. Dean looks up when she comes through the door, her leather boots clicking against the linoleum tiles. He tosses the magazine onto the table and walks over to her. She pulls him into a tight hug. Anna smells like lavender and her light fleece jacket is soft and comforting underneath his fingertips.

“Have the doctors said anything else?” Anna asks, when she pulls out of the hug. She looks like a wreck, her hair is disheveled and her eyes are red-rimmed from crying.

Dean shakes his head, “Nope. They haven’t even come out after I was told to leave. I want to ask, but since… I’m not family I doubt they would tell me anything anyway.”

“I’ll go ask,” Anna says with a small smile, turning on her heel and walking over to the desk.

Dean waits patiently while Anna talks to the nurse. He sees the nurse shake her head and Anna nods, giving the nurse a polite smile, then she returns to Dean.

“Nothing new yet. She said they are still in the process of draining his lungs then they will give him a full check-up just to see how he’s doing.”

Dean sighs, slumping down into the nearest chair, dropping his head into his hands, “I just want to see him.”

Anna slides down next to him, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder, “I know.”

Dean raises his head and looks at her, “I want him to be okay, but I know sooner or later he’s gonna… you know and whenever that happens, it’s going to break me.”

Anna nods, “We can be broken together.”

Dean laughs coldly and scrubs a hand over his face. They sit in silence, waiting, not knowing what else to say.

Sam and Jess rush through the double doors five minutes later, coming over to Dean and Anna. Sam pulls Dean into a hug and Dean buries his face in Sam’s t-shirt, fighting back the urge to fucking lose his shit. Sam slowly rubs his hand up and down Dean’s back, Dean clings to Sam’s shirt, fingers creating wrinkles in the soft fabric.

“It’s okay,” Sam says softly with a frown. The only other time he’s seen Dean this distraught over anything let alone _anyone_ , was when their parents died in a horrific car accident a few days after Dean’s fourteenth birthday. He hates seeing his brother upset and knowing that there’s nothing he can do to fix this. There’s nothing anyone can do to fix this.

Dean pulls away and straighten his shoulders, hardening his expression and hiding his emotions behind a ten foot brick wall.

“I’m fine,” He says with a firm nod. Sam looks like he’s about to argue about how fine Dean really is, but Dean gives him a cold look and Sam just nods.

Jess gives Dean a huge smile, surging forward and giving him a long hug, “Hey Dean.”

“Well, look at you,” Dean says when she pulls away, grinning at Jess, “Still gorgeous even at three in the morning; Sam’s a lucky guy,” Dean teases. He’s trying to lighten the mood and ignore the pool of nervousness and fear continuously growing in the pit of his stomach. Basically he’s grasping at straws; but it is true, Jess _does_ look beautiful even with atrocious bed head.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Jess replies, punching Dean lightly in the shoulder with her fist. She’s such a wonderful woman, Dean is so glad she is his sister-in-law.

A few more hugs are exchanged between Sam, Jess and Anna, then pleasantries and easy conversation start up; the three of them purposely avoiding mentioning or talking about Castiel at all. Dean doesn’t say much, too wrapped up in his own head, dealing with his demons. He isn’t feeling too good himself, his stomach is hurting, choosing the most inopportune time to throb with pain. He sits down in the nearest chair, feigning fatigue; he doesn’t want to worry them. Dean is alright, he’s just in a bit more pain than normal, nothing to worry about. He presses his hand against his stomach, closing his eyes and wills the pain to subside.

Anna, Sam and Jess eventually tire of talking and fall into the plush seats around Dean; picking up magazines and idly flipping through them. They could be here for a long time, it all depends on how well Cas is doing, which they still don’t know. There is one nurse at the desk, but no one has come out of the emergency room for at least an hour now. Dean checks his watch; 4:15 a.m.

 ------

Sunlight is just beginning to filter in through the cracks in the blinds when Castiel’s doctor finally enters the waiting room. When Dean sees him, he is on his feet in point two seconds; everyone else isn’t far behind.

“How is he?”

“He’s breathing better, not normal, but stable enough for now. We drained his lungs but that will only slow down the process some,” The doctor explains looking back and forth between Dean and Sam, Jess and Anna.

“Process?” Dean asks, confused.

“Castiel is very sick, he’s dying. His lungs and major organs are failing, there’s nothing we can do except give him medicine to ease his pain. I would give him a week to live, if that. I’m so sorry.” Dean stares at him for a minute, hoping that the doctor’s frown will turn into a smile and this will all be some kind of cruel joke. But he doesn’t smile, and the entire room is silent with the weight of his words.

“A week,” Dean states, not believing the words coming out of his own mouth. No, he can’t have a week that’s not enough time. Cas isn’t supposed to die yet, it’s only been four months, four months. They need more than that, they need a hell of a lot more than four measly months.

“Yes, sir.” The doctor clasps his hands, he looks uncomfortable.

“One _fucking_ week,” Dean bites out. Sam puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder, but Dean shrugs him off, angry.

“I understand this is hard for yo-”

“You understand?! I don’t think you fucking _understand!_ You’re just gonna stand there and tell me that the love of my life is lying in there with a week left to live and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it?!” Dean is yelling and the nurses look up from what they are doing behind the counter. Let them think he’s batshit crazy, he doesn’t fucking care.

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“No. You know what?! Fuck you.” Dean pushes past the doctor, walking through the two heavy doors into the emergency room, ignoring the nurses who tell him he can’t go back there. He turns down the hall until he reaches Cas’s room, instantly going to Cas’s side. Cas’s hand lays limp on the bed sheet, Dean takes Cas’s hand within his own, intertwining their fingers and rubbing circles into Cas’s skin with his thumb. Dean stares at Cas, a lump in his throat.

He’s knocked out, due to painkillers most likely, but he looks so peaceful. His eyes are closed, lips set in a thin line; every muscle in his body relaxed. The heart monitor beeps rhythmically nearby and Cas’s oxygen hisses every twenty seconds. Yet despite the peace in his demeanor, Cas looks haggard, pale and sick. Everything happened so fast – how did Cas’s health go downhill so fast? Maybe it hadn’t and Cas just kept how he was feeling to himself. Cas would do that, downplay his own health so Dean wouldn’t worry. He should’ve noticed something was wrong, but he didn’t and now it is too late. A choked sob rushes out of him and he slams his eyes shut. He’s not going to cry, not now, he’s gotta be strong. If not for his sake, for Cas’s. He squeezes Cas’s hand instead and hangs his head. The curtain slides open behind him and a hand rests on his shoulder.

“Dean?” Anna says softly.

Dean turns his head and looks up at her, “Yeah?”

“The doctor told us more after you left,” She pauses gauging Dean’s reaction, he just nods so she continues, “Since Cas doesn’t have… that long, the doctor said that he could either stay here or go back home, whatever he wants.”

“Really?” Dean looks at her with wide eyes and Anna nods, a sad, soft smile on her face.

“Really,” Anna replies, taking a seat on the other side of Cas’s bed. She takes his right hand in hers and presses a kiss against the top of his hand.

“That’s awesome.” _Totally awesome. Cas can die in his home, warm in his bed, what a perfect ending._

“As soon as he wakes up and checked to ensure he’s in a stable enough condition, the hospital will discharge him and we can take him home,” Anna explains, eyes fixed on her brother. Dean watches her, pale fingers wrapped gingerly around Cas’s wrist. There’s grief in her eyes and Dean can tell she’s trying her damn hardest to keep it together just like he is.

Time passes and Dean stays frozen in place, waiting patiently for Cas to wake up. He’s not leaving Cas’s side until he sees Cas’s blue eyes slide open and light up when they see him. Cas’s eyes always light up when he sees Dean. Sam and Jess enter the room a few minutes after Anna, hovering near the back, waiting. They are all waiting. No one knows what to say so they sit in silence, listening to the even beating of Cas’s heart echoing throughout the room from the monitor in the corner.

Cas wakes up slowly, moving his arms and legs a bit and then his eyes slowly slide open, blinking erratically at the bright light above him. When he lowers his eyes from the ceiling, the first thing he sees is Dean. A smile lights up his face and he squeezes Dean’s hand.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas’s voice cracks, his throat feels dry and parched, like he walked through the desert for a few days straight.

“Hey,” Dean says softly, rising up out of his chair and pressing a kiss to Cas’s forehead, “How you feeling?”

“I can breathe now,” Cas replies, taking a deep breathe in through his oxygen to prove that he can in fact breathe without coughing his lungs out. He sounds a bit wheezy still, but at least he’s not straining to get enough air.

“That’s good, real good,” Dean replies. Cas looks a lot better than he did a few hours ago, but his skin is still pale and there are bags under his eyes.

Cas turns his head to the right and smiles at Anna.

“Hello, Anna.”

“Hey Cas, you’re doing so much better,” Anna says, squeezing Cas’s hand.

“I feel better, though I am extremely tired. I think when I get home I would like to sleep for awhile.” Cas takes in a deep breath and his lungs wheeze at the effort.

“Hey Cas!” Sam pips up from the back of the room, Jess waves, smiling warmly.

A grin appears on Cas’s face and he glances around at all of them, “You all came.”

“Well of course we all came, silly. We wouldn’t just _not_ come and see you if you are in the hospital.”

“I just didn’t feel like it was a big deal,” Cas says with a shrug, “This has happened before.”

There’s a beat of silence then Cas asks, “What did the doctor say?”

Dean shakes his head, visible tears rush to his eyes, “I can’t tell him Anna.”

“What? You can’t tell me what?” Cas looks worried now, his brow furrowing, fear present in his eyes.

Anna sighs heavily, the weight of the world on her shoulders, “The doctor he… he told us you are very sick. The cancer that’s throughout your body has started causing your major organs to fail…” Anna pauses, trailing off wiping away tears that start to slide down her cheeks, “You… you have a week left to live.”

There’s another long stretch of silence with Cas staring at her in a mix of horror and shock.

“A week?” Cas whispers.

Anna simply nods, she cannot speak anymore. She pulls a few tissues out of her pockets, wiping her eyes. Cas’s breathing has turned from deep, even breaths to quick and shallow, the heart monitor next to him starts beeping faster. He squeezes Dean’s hand and starts shaking his head, eyes watering.

“No, no, no, no.” Cas keeps repeating the word over and over again hysterically. This isn’t happening, he can’t die yet, this is too soon. He needs more time with Dean, they still need to make up for all the time they lost while being separated. He’s not ready to let go yet.

“Cas,” Dean says softly. Dean’s hand moves to Cas’s shoulder, a grounding and comforting touch, reminding Cas that he’s there.

“Dean,” Cas says brokenly, weakly raising his arms filled with IVs, reaching out to Dean. Dean immediately stands and pulls Cas into his arms. The moment Dean’s arms wrap around him Cas buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and sobs.

Anna rises from her chair, still sniffling, and motions for Sam and Jess to follow her. Sam and Jess have tears sparkling in their eyes, shooting one last glance at Dean and Cas before following Anna out of the room, sliding the door shut behind them with a dull thud.

Dean holds Cas tightly in his arms until he calms down a bit. When Cas finally pulls away his face streaked with tears, he looks so lost and afraid that it breaks Dean’s heart into a thousand pieces. Cas is still shaking even though the tears have stopped falling, his fingers clench Dean’s t-shirt as if he’s afraid he will disappear and Dean will vanish from his grasp. Dean wants to tell him everything is going to be okay, but he knows it won’t be. He takes Cas’s face in his hands and kisses him.

Dean presses their foreheads together, “I love you,” he says and Cas’s eyes slam shut.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says quietly, backing away and biting his lip to stave off the fresh wave of tears.

“What are you apologizing for?!”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, I never want to hurt you, but I’m going to,” Cas looks down, focusing on the clear tube sticking out of his vein.

“No. No don’t you ever be sorry for that, ever. When you… when you die it’s gonna hurt like a motherfucking bitch. It’s gonna feel like half of my soul is being ripped out my chest, but I don’t care. Because it was worth it, every single second I got with you was worth it.”

“I love you,” Cas whispers, throwing his arms around Dean’s neck, hugging him tightly.

“Is there anything I can do?” Dean asks, hands roaming protectively on Cas’s shoulder, waist and thighs. Just small comforting touches to let Cas know that whatever he needs or wants, Dean will do.

Cas shakes his head, “No, just find out when I can go home. I just want to go home.”

A few minutes later Dean and Cas are no longer alone; Anna, Sam, Jess and Cas’s doctor re-enter the room. The doctor checks Cas’s vital signs to make sure that he is stable enough to be discharged. Cas watches his doctor intently, reading all the little notes he makes on Cas’s chart and every hint of an expression that crosses his face. Cas waits until the doctor is finished checking him and is about to put away his stethoscope to ask the question that’s been running through his mind on replay.

“Is it going to hurt?”

His doctor looks up in surprise, wrapping his stethoscope around his neck.

“You mean dying?”

“Yes, is dying going to hurt?” Cas says, more calmly than he is feeling on the inside. His stomach is doing flip-flops and he has the urge to be sick.

“No, you will get significantly weaker as the days go by. We are sending you home with a wheelchair so that you can get around after you become too weak to walk. Your breathing will become labored closer to the end, but at the moment of death you won’t be conscious. You will know when you are dying, you will be able to hear but you won’t be able to speak or open your eyes. You will essentially stop breathing; it will be relatively painless.”

Cas nods slowly. He looks over at Dean for a few brief seconds then turns back to the doctor, “Thank you, may I go home now?”

“Yes, you can go home.”

The doctor smiles, a strained sort of smile that seems polite, but at the same time Cas can see the pity in his eyes. It must be a hard job, giving people’s lives an expiration date.

One of the nurses comes in with a wheelchair and with Dean’s assistance, helps Cas into the chair. He protests at first – his legs are fine, he can walk. However, when he stands up from the bed and almost keels over from light-headedness and fatigue, he decides that yes, maybe the wheelchair is a good idea, for now. Dean wheels him out of the emergency room with Anna, Sam and Jess close behind. Cas is discharged from the hospital at 7:07a.m. It’s a beautiful morning, sun breaking through the fog from the bay and Cas thinks that seems wrong. Shouldn’t everything be dreary and grey? How can the world continue on turning when his is ending?

Dean helps him into the front seat of the impala, folding up the wheelchair and cramming it into the trunk. Anna, Sam and Jess all go to their respective cars with promises to meet back at Dean and Cas’s cabin. Dean pulls out of the emergency parking lot and onto the main street, reaching over and grabbing Cas’s hand as soon as he’s able to. He drives in silence for a while, turning on the radio quietly, just to have something to fill the silence and quiet the thousands of thoughts rushing through his head.

Cas watches out the window, staring mindlessly at the scenery around him. He can’t look at Dean, not right now. If he did, he knows that he would breakdown and he doesn’t want to cry again. So instead, he gazes at the bay, the sparkling blue water underneath the shining sun. Days like this are rare in San Francisco this early in the morning. Usually the entire bay area is enveloped in fog until midday, but today apparently the universe decided to be somewhat generous. Up ahead there is a dense cloud of fog. Half of the iconic bridge is doused in sunlight and the other half covered in a fog so thick the forest of trees on the opposite side of the bridge are invisible. The pass over from brightness to darkness is strangely peaceful. It feels like the impala is wrapped up in a cloud high above the sky, tendrils of fog exploding across the windshield as Dean drives into the whiteness. The fog continues long past the bridge and the bay, down the winding back roads, all the way until Dean turns onto the coast highway. Here the clouds rise higher into the sky, hovering over the ocean like a blanket, hiding the sun and blue sky from the grey waves.

When Dean pulls into the long, windy driveway, slowing down to five miles an hour, Cas rolls down his window and closes his eyes, letting the cool morning breeze caress his skin. The numbness he felt ingrained on his skin, from shock and the stuffiness of the hospital washes away in the wind. He feels raw and alive. His heart pounds against his ribcage, a beautiful sound. He treasures the even, strong beats, memorizing them. How many more times will his heart beat? Every thud is a precious gift that he cannot waste.

Dean stops the impala adjacent to the front door right beside the bottom step so Cas can get out and into the house with as much ease as possible. He is half-way out of the car, Dean’s hand wrapped around his bicep, holding him when Sam and Jess pull in next to him and Sam jumps out of the car to help Dean get Cas inside. Cas frowns, mostly because he’s stubborn and _knows_ that he can walk up the few steps to the door himself, but Dean is worried so Cas shuts up and lets him do what he needs to. Sam comes along the other side and wraps his arm around Cas’s arm, shooting him a small, comforting smile. Together the three of them walk up the front steps to the door.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, after Cas has a few seconds to get his bearings. Cas takes in a deep breath of his oxygen and gauges the strength of his body. He suddenly feels very tired. It could be from the exertion of walking up the steps or the whole ordeal or finding out that he will be dead in a week. Regardless, he probably should get in bed before he faints.

“I’m fine, however I feel very tired. Perhaps I _should_ use the wheelchair,” Cas replies, glancing over his shoulder at the trunk of the impala. Dean gives Sam a curt nod and Sam bounds off the steps, popping open the trunk and pulling the chair out. He carries it up to the porch and unfolds the chair next to Cas, patting the seat when he’s finished.

“There you go!”

“Thank you Sam,” Cas says with a gracious smile. Dean helps him sit down, fingers trailing along Cas’s shoulder, not wanting to stop touching him. Dean hands Sam the keys and Sam unlocks the door, letting Dean push Cas through the door and down the hall. Dean pauses in front of their bedroom, fingers tapping on the handles of the wheelchair.

“Do you want to go to bed? I figured you would, I know you’re tired but if you don’t want to I can push you out into the living room or something. Whatever you want just tell me.”

Dean sounds frazzled and more than a bit worried. Cas cranes his neck back to look at Dean, smiling at him lovingly.

“Dean,” Cas states and Dean stops fidgeting and stares at him.

“What?”

“You don’t need to hover over me like a baby bird. I’m not going to break, not yet at least,” Dean opens his mouth to say something but Cas continues, “I know you’re worried and I know you’re upset. Go outside, go for a walk or something. Take care of yourself for a few hours while I sleep, Sam can watch over me. Then when I wake up you can hover over me as much as you want. Deal?”

Dean hesitates, he looks like he’s about to argue but there is something in Cas’s eyes, a pleading need for Dean to do something for himself that stops him. Instead of arguing, which is what he wants to do, he surrenders and nods.

“Okay, I can do that.”

Cas smiles softly, “Thank you.”

Dean shrugs, he doesn’t know what else to say and he doesn’t want to talk anymore. He’s afraid he’ll start crying. So instead he pushes Cas forward into their bedroom and says, “Let’s get you into bed.”

Dean gets Cas settled into bed, making sure he has enough blankets and is comfortable. He stands at Cas’s bedside for a few seconds, unwilling to leave, then remembers what Cas asked of him. Dean leans forward and presses a kiss against his forehead, “Get some sleep.”

“I will. Go think,” Cas says and Dean huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah okay, I’ll go _think_.”

Cas’s lips tip up into a small smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Dean leaves, closing the door almost all of the way allowing a small space in the door so it can be opened without making any noise. He goes to Sam who is waiting right outside in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, looking at Dean expectantly.

“Can you watch over him for awhile? He wants me to go do something for myself, whatever the fuck that means, so I’m gonna just go outside I guess.”

Sam nods, “Of course. That’s a good idea, Dean. Anna’s here now too, she’s in the living room. If you wanna talk to me about all this, I’m here.”

“I know. Thanks, Sammy.” Dean claps him on the shoulder with a forced smile, heading past him into the living room.

He rounds the corner into the kitchen and freezes when he sees Jess at the stove looking right at home, cooking something in one of their large pots.

“Jess, you don- you don’t have to do that,” Dean stutters out, walking over to her.

“I know,” She says with a bright smile, “I want to. I need to make sure you two get fed. You’ll both be so worried about each other that you will forget to eat. Now you will have a huge pot of soup to eat for the next couple of days.”

“Jess, you’re an angel,” Dean says with a grin, wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her cheek.

“I know,” Jess sing-songs, stirring the soup with a large wooden spoon.

“What kind of soup are you making?” Dean asks, leaning over her shoulder to peer into the steaming pot.

“Your mom’s tomato rice soup. I hope you don’t mind, Sam gave me the recipe and I thought it might be comforting.”

Dean stares at her for a few moments in a daze. He hasn’t had his mom’s soup for years, Mary always used to make it for Sam and him whenever they got sick or had a bad day. Jess pushes a loose strand of hair behind her air, kneading her lip against her teeth, probably worried she’s fucked up.

“I… that’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now shoo,” Jess says shaking the spoon at him.

Dean backs out of the kitchen, his hands up in mock surrender. He heads out to the living room and finds Anna perched on the couch, her hands folded in her lap. Dean tells her that Cas went in to take a nap and that she can go watch over him with Sam if she wants. She immediately rises and walks back to their bedroom. Dean goes out the front door and half-collapses onto the front porch, sitting down on the top wooden step, warm from the sun. He hangs his head and rubs his hands down his face. He feels so drained, all the strength in his body gone and replaced by a sadness he is ill-prepared to deal with. Dean knows that he needs to get his shit together, if not for himself, for Cas. He doesn’t want to ruin the last few days he has with him. Dean can mourn after he’s gone.

Cas told him to take care of himself and Dean wants to, but he doesn’t know how. Taking care of himself involves dealing with all of the emotions bottled up inside of him that he can’t deal with right now. Well, he can deal with them right now he just doesn’t want to. Being alone with his thoughts equals Dean blaming himself for everything that’s happening. Deep inside he knows it’s not his fault that Cas is dying, but a nagging part of his brain seems to think otherwise. Dean sighs loudly, raking his fingers through his hair and stands back up. He re-enters the house and heads back down the hallway to the bedroom. He carefully opens the door, not making a noise. Sam and Anna look up at him as he enter, both on either side of Cas’s bed. Cas is asleep now, snoring softly looking extremely at peace. Dean crosses over to Sam, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, he leans down and whispers in his ear.

“Can we go for a walk?”

“Sure,” Sam whispers back, silently standing to his feet and following Dean out the front door.

Dean half-jogs down the front steps and immediately turns right in the direction of the dirt path. He slows down once they are a good distance away from the house, Sam matching his pace. Dean stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He hates talking about his emotions but Sam’s always been there for him and this is no different. Dean doesn’t say anything at first and they end up walking in an almost silence except for the crunching of the branches underneath their feet and the chirping of birds in the trees. Out of the corner of his eye Dean can see Sam giving him worried glances every few hundred feet. Okay, this is getting ridiculous, he needs to just man up and fucking get it out.

Dean stops walking abruptly, turns to Sam and stares up at him, feeling like a lost little kid.

“I don’t know what to do, Sammy. I’m so fucking scared. I don’t know how I’m going to live when he dies. It’s just so unfair, so goddamn unfair. Some people get lifetimes together and that’s what we should’ve gotten, but we didn’t – we got a few months, that’s it. He’s all I’ve ever wanted Sam, you know that,” Dean pauses blinking back the tears in his eyes, glancing around at the forest.

“I’m trying to be strong for him, I really am but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to. I just, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…” Dean trails off, covering his mouth with his hand, trying to stop the sobs rising in his throat.

Sam doesn’t say anything, there’s nothing he can say. He wraps his arms around Dean and pulls him into a tight hug. Dean hides his face in Sam’s soft flannel shirt and sobs, letting everything out. His fingers, clench around Sam’s shirt, wrinkling the fabric in between his fingers. Sam rubs his back soothingly.

“Dean, you’re going to be okay,” Sam says then cringes because he realizes it’s a lie.

“No I’m not,” Dean says, voice muffled slightly by Sam’s shirt.

“Okay, no you’re not. But you know what you are going to do? You’re gonna be strong for him, he needs that. He needs you to keep fighting for him so he can have the strength to keep fighting too. That’s what he needs Dean, he needs you.”

“I know,” Dean mutters, pulling away and wiping the tears off of his face.

“Also, it’s okay to cry, that’s not weak, no matter what Dad used to say. Dean, you cry, you hold him and you cry together. Just be there for him, that’s all he needs. And after he dies and you’re a fucking train wreck, I’ll be here for you to help you pick up the pieces.”

Dean looks at Sam for a moment, and thinks that he has the best brother on the face of the planet.

“Thanks, Sam,” Dean says,

Sam shrugs, “Since I can’t heal either of you, the least I can do is be there for you when you need me.” 

Dean mindlessly digs an imprint into the dirt with the toe of his shoe, searching for the right words for what he wants to say. “I don’t want him to die Sammy. If I could trade places with him I would but,” Dean laughs coldly, “It wouldn’t do much good, he’d still die in a few months anyway.”

Sam sighs heavily, “It’s so unfair.”

Dean looks off into the sunlit forest, the birds chirping happily – too happily – in the treetops, “You’re right, it’s really fucking unfair.”

They do not linger much longer in the middle of the path, Dean has nothing else to say so he turns and heads back toward the house, Sam following silently behind. He wants to talk about more, he does, but he can’t bring himself to pull up every little stabbing rock in his heart without dissolving into a puddle. So instead, he holds everything in and thinks. Sam’s words helped. He is right, Dean needs to be whatever Cas needs. Cas won’t think about himself, he never does. Cas is the kind of person who will worry about Dean’s emotional well-being more than he will worry about himself, even though he is on his deathbed. That’s just who he is, who he’s always been.

The mid-afternoon sun is warm at their backs as they climb the steps up to the front door of the cabin. The rich, comforting smell of the Mary’s special soup drifts out the windows and out into the wilderness, filling Dean with a sense of peace he greatly needs. Inside the cabin, Jess is dishing up the steaming soup into small porcelain bowls, humming happily under her breath. Dean beelines over to her, sliding his hand around her waist and pressing another kiss against her cheek. She has no idea how much this small gesture is helping him.

“Thanks again, you’re wonderful. Sammy’s a lucky man,” Dean says with a grin, taking a bowl of soup and a spoon.

Sam nudges Dean out of the way to come up to Jess planting a lingering kiss on her lips, “Yeah, I am pretty lucky.”

Jess smiles sweetly, “You’re welcome, Dean. I hope I fixed it correctly. I followed the recipe exactly.”

“I’m sure it will taste wonderful,” Dean says encouragingly before leaving the kitchen and heading down the hall to the bedroom.

He pushes open the door slowly, peeking around the side of the door. Cas is still sleeping soundly, head tilted to the side on the pillow, snoring softly. Anna is watching him, her hands folded in her lap. Dean slips inside the door and taps her shoulder gently. Anna turns to him and smiles.

“Would you like some soup?” Dean asks, handing the bowl of soup out to her.

“Yes, thank you,” Anna takes the spoon and bowl from Dean, dipping her spoon into the thick soup and taking a bite. Dean sits on the opposite side of the bed, fingers brushing against Cas’s hand just a gentle reminder even while he’s sleeping that Dean has returned.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s just been sleeping. No coughing, no trouble breathing, peaceful.”

Dean’s thumb rubs soft circles onto the top of Cas’s pale hand, “Good, that’s good.”

Dean watches Cas as Anna eats her soup, silence takes over except for the occasional clinking of the spoon against the bowl. When she’s finished eating, she sets her bowl down beside the chair.

“I think I might leave soon,” Anna says suddenly and Dean looks at her in surprise.

“You don’t have to, you can stay all night for as long as you need to, you’re his sister,” Dean says.

“I know that Dean, I just,” Anna looks at Cas then back to Dean, “I’ve gotten more than enough time with him, you haven’t. And in his last few days, I want him to have everything he wants, which is you and time with you. I wouldn’t dream of taking that away from him.”

Dean nods understandingly, looking at Cas, “I hope I make him happy. All I ever wanted was to make him happy.”

Anna reaches across the bed to take Dean’s hand, blinking back tears, “This summer, Cas was happier than I’ve ever seen him in his entire life. You’re everything to him, Dean.”

Dean gulps, squeezing Anna’s hand. He wants to say thank you or something – anything – but he can’t manage to squeeze any words out of his mouth. Anna releases Dean’s hand, standing to her feet. She crosses over to Cas’s bed and kisses his forehead, running her hand across his bald head. Anna gathers up her purse and dirty dishes, pausing on her way out of the room to pat Dean’s shoulder.

“Hang in there and call if something happens or he gets worse. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow morning.”

“I will,” Dean promises.

Anna leaves with a quick wave over her shoulder, pulling the door shut behind her, leaving Dean and Cas alone.

Dean sits in silence, listening to Cas’s soft and occasional wheezy breathing. He closes his eyes, praying to a god he knows doesn’t exist that whenever Cas dies, it will be peaceful and not painful. He doesn’t want Cas to be in pain or struggling to breathe; death is already painful enough. Sam comes in a while later – Dean loses track of time, it could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours, he has no idea – bringing him a warm bowl of soup, reminding him that he needs to eat.

Dean rolls his eyes, mumbling, “bitch” under his breath, taking a spoonful of soup and putting it into his mouth. The warm liquid hits his taste buds and a wash of memories filter into his head. His mother putting him into bed with a bowl of this soup when he was eight years old and had pneumonia, singing “Hey Jude,” to him while she tucked him into bed.

Jess did a wonderful job, the soup is perfect.

“Thanks Sammy.”

“You’re welcome, jerk,” Sam whispers, squeezing Dean’s shoulder, leaving just as quickly as he came.

Dean gobbles down his soup, realizing how hungry he is after eating a few bites. He hadn’t eaten anything since last night, that’s probably not good. He will have to have Cas eat some and drink later when he wakes up, Dean doesn’t want him to get dehydrated.

Cas stirs in his sleep a few times, mumbling nonsense while he moves around, kicking his feet and turning over onto his side, adjusting his position. Dean watches him, constantly on his guard, worried that at any second Cas will bolt up in bed, wide awake, scrambling for breath like he did this morning. This morning… how quickly things can change. They had so many plans. Cas wanted to go to the farmer’s market next week and a small little carnival that is being held in Napa Valley. They were going to go on a road trip down the California Coast in a few weeks as long as they both were still up to it, staying in cheap – but clean – motels and eat crappy food at roadside diners. But now they can’t do any of that. Dean bites his lip, keeping the tears at bay. He needs to be strong, he can be strong. He closes his eyes and starts humming “Ramble On” under his breath to soothe himself. Soon he is fast asleep with Cas’s hand still tangled with his own.

He is woken later to Sam tapping on his shoulder, “Dean?”

“Hmmm, what’s wrong?” Dean asks groggily, rubbing at his eyes.

Sam shakes his head, “Nothing, Jess and I just figured we should probably get going, let you guys have some time together when he wakes up. Jess put the rest of the soup in a big bowl and set it in the fridge so you guys can eat it later.”

“Oh okay,” Dean says, sitting up in the chair and looking over his shoulder at Sam. Jess is standing next to him, hand on his shoulder and Dean smiles at her.

“Thank you both for everything, I appreciate it,” Dean says gratefully.

“No problem.”

“Let us know if you need anything else,” Jess says and Dean nods.

They both give Dean a quick hug before scampering out of the room and out the door. Sam’s car rumbles to life, then fades as they drive down the driveway.


	7. Chapter 7

Cas wakes up about an hour later, mumbling Dean’s name as his eyes slide open, blinking slowly. It’s afternoon now, the sun on the left side of the house, shining brightly in through the windows. He looks heathier in the light, not as pale and sick. Dean smiles at him when Cas says his name.

"Hey angel, how you feeling?” Dean asks, squeezing Cas’s hand.

Cas looks around the room, releasing Dean’s hand to stretch his arms above his head and move his neck from side to side.

“Better, still very tired though,” Cas answers, reaching for Dean’s hand again.

“Are you hungry?” 

Cas nods enthusiastically, “Yes, very.” 

Dean chuckles, “Jess made us soup, I’ll go get you some.” 

Dean reheats Cas a bowl of soup and comes back, scooting his chair closer to the bed. He hands Cas the bowl and a spoon. Cas takes the bowl and immediately starts gulping down the soup.

“Is everyone still here?” Cas asks in a pause between bites.

“No, they left about an hour ago. They would’ve said good-bye, but they didn’t want to wake you. They’ll be back in the morning.”

“How are you?” Cas asks, looking at Dean curiously, eyes filled with worry.

“I’m alright. I’m… doing better too,” Dean answers, glancing away from Cas’s prying eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m okay,” Dean smiles a little, hoping that answer will please Cas enough to stop asking him.

Cas sighs, setting his spoon inside the bowl to focus on Dean, “I know you’re not. You don’t have to pretend. I don’t want you to pretend to have everything together when you don’t.”

“I know,” Dean says softly, “I just don’t want you to worry.”

Cas leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Dean’s lips, “I’ll try to worry less.”

Dean smiles at that, hand sliding up and around the back of Cas’s neck. He kisses him, “Okay, I’ll try to be more open.”

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

Cas finishes his soup, handing Dean his empty bowl and taking a long sip of water from the glass Dean brought him.

“You look tired,” Cas says suddenly, brows furrowing.

“I thought you said you were going to stop worrying so much,” Dean teases and Cas laughs, shaking his head.

There’s a long pause and Cas’s face turns serious again. He fixes Dean with an intense gaze.

“I know it’s early, but will you come to bed? I don’t want to sleep without you.”

“Of course.”

Dean gets up to clean Cas’s dishes, then locks the front door and returns to the bedroom. He changes into a pair of pajama pants and crawls into bed with Cas, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a kiss against his neck. Cas’s pulse thrums against his lips, alive and strong, Dean kisses his pulse point again, lingering longer this time.

“I love you,” Dean whispers.

Cas snuggles up in Dean’s arms, his hands coming to rest on top of Dean’s, their fingers layering over each other, “I love you too.”

Dean falls asleep first, his breathing even and warm against the back of Cas’s neck. Cas listens to the deep sound of his breathing for a while, before drifting off to sleep. He loses himself in how being wrapped up in Dean’s arms makes him feel at home and safe.

\------

True to their word, the next day Anna, Sam, and Jess all stop by in the morning to check-up on Cas and to remind Dean to eat and take care of himself. Dean appreciates their worrying, it reminds him that he’s not going at this alone, that there are people who support him and Cas and will be there for him if he needs anything. In the afternoon Jo and Benny stop by to see Cas. Dean and Cas both know that they are there to say good-bye. They talk casually, avoiding Cas’s imminent death until they get ready to leave. Jo tells Cas a few dumb jokes she made up and draw musical laughs from Cas’s throat. It’s good that Cas can still laugh, even now. Benny tells Cas stories about his fishing trips, he knows how much Cas loves the sea. The ocean is practically flat when you’re out in the middle of it, water surrounding you for miles, it’s beautiful but at the same time, scary, Benny tells him. Cas smiles, listening to Benny talk about the sea. The sea has always been a source of comfort for Cas, and he needs comfort especially now.

When Benny and Jo get ready to leave, they both give Cas a long hug. Jo tries so hard to be strong, not letting any tears fall until her back is turned from Castiel and then she lets them all go. Benny doesn’t cry until Dean is walking them out the front door to their car, then they are both crying and Dean just stands there sadly, wishing there was something he 

“Saying good-bye is always the hardest part,” Jo says through her tears and Benny nods in agreement.

“If you need anything, brother, call us we are here for you,” Benny adds with a slight smile.

“Thanks guys,” Dean replies. Jo and Benny drive away and Dean waves at them from the porch of the house, knowing that most likely the next time he sees them will be at Cas’s funeral.

Over the next few days Castiel’s condition worsens. He becomes weaker and doesn’t want to eat very much. One evening he tries to stand and almost topples over from how shaky his legs are. He gets around in the wheelchair after that. Cas’s cough returns and his breathing is shallower. The pigment of his skin no longer looks healthy, turning pale. He sleeps most of the day, always extremely tired. But when he awakes, he always wants to know where Dean is. Dean of course, is a constant presence at Cas’s bedside, unwilling to move even when Anna tells him he needs to get sleep. He falls asleep in the hard-backed chair to prove that he can indeed sleep, but near Cas.

Just when Dean thinks it’s only a matter of a few hours until Cas is gone and Dean is mentally preparing himself for the worst, Castiel has a surge of energy. He demands to get out of bed all smiles and fully-awake. Dean is surprised to say the least, but helps Cas into his wheelchair and wheels him down the hall. Cas asks to be wheeled into the kitchen so Dean takes him in there. The late afternoon sun is shining, bright and golden through the window and onto the white-tiled floor. Dust floats in the air, highlighted by the golden hue and Castiel stares longingly out at the window. He taps his hands lightly against his thighs, pondering something, then turns to Dean.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

Cas stares out past the impala at the dirt trail, following its path until he cannot see it anymore past the trees, “I would like to see the sunset one last time, if that is alright.”

Dean gulps, throat constricting at, “one last time.” His brain is screaming, “no, no, not one last time you’ll get to see it again tomorrow, don’t talk like that,” but instead he tightens his grip on Castiel’s chair and swallows.

“Yeah, yeah sure of course. I’ll go get you some warmer clothes.”

Dean walks to the door and pulls down Cas’s tan trench coat off of the hanger on the back of the door, folding it over his arm. He grabs the knitted blue hat next to it that Anna made Cas a few months ago when he started to lose his hair in earnest. Dean strides back to where Cas is waiting in the kitchen and pushes him over to the front door. He wraps his arm around Cas’s waist, helping him stand so he can put on his jacket. The coat slides over his shoulder and flaps against Cas’s chest, it used to fit perfectly now it’s about two sizes too big. Dean places the blue hat on Cas’s head, pulling it down so it covers his ears from the cold. Cas gives Dean a gentle smile, tired eyes lighting up briefly and Dean feels unwanted tears rushing to his eyes. He glances away and slides his own jacket on and pushes Cas out the front door.

“Can you make it down the steps?” Dean asks.

Cas eyes the steps with slightly narrowed eyes. There are only three, he can do it.

“Yes, but I will need your assistance.”

Cas grips Dean’s arm while Dean helps him take the steps one foot at a time. It’s slow going and Cas feels like his knees are going to give out on him at any second, but he makes it to the bottom without toppling over, most likely thanks to Dean. Dean leaves him for a second once they reach the gravel to run up and grab the chair, placing it behind Cas so he can sit back down. Cas is breathing heavily, the few short steps he took down the stairs taking a lot of out of him and he sits down in the chair with a sigh of relief.

“You ready?” Dean asks softly from behind him. 

Castiel turns to face Dean and smiles, a tiny little smile that is filled more with sadness then happiness and says, “I’m ready.”

Dean starts pushing him forward and the chair bumps along in the gravel, the ride will be smoother once they reach the path. The sun is low in the sky, tendrils of orange and pink beginning to spread like veins across the blue. Castiel already can tell that they will reach the cliff at the perfect time, it’s going to be an indescribably wonderful last sunset. Birds swoop across the path, wings hitting the bushes, rattling the leaves before rising back up to the sky. Cas’s wheelchair squeaks along and Dean hums quietly under his breath out of need for comforting himself and Cas. The breeze is strong this evening, cool and fresh as it drifts against Cas’s skin. Every sensation - the wind at the back of his neck, the birds chirping in the trees, light filtering in through the cracks of the branches – is heightened. He feels more alive than he has in a long time. It makes sense, Cas thinks, that when you’re dying you feel the most alive.

Along the edge of the trail a bunch of wildflowers are blooming, their buds opening and vibrant colors opening up to the setting sun.

“Dean, stop for a minute,” Cas says, talking for the first time since they left the house.

Cas doesn’t know what kind of flowers they are or if they hold any meaning, only that they hold meaning to him. When Dean stops pushing him, Cas reaches down and picks a few handfuls of the colorful blossoms. He stares at them for a few moments in his hands, then turns to Dean.

“I’d like these to be on my casket,” Cas says slowly, arranging the flowers in his hands, holding them delicately.

“Cas,” Dean says brokenly, his lip trembles.

“Please?” Cas pleads, reaching up with his free hand and covering Dean’s where it rests on the handle of his wheelchair.

Dean scrubs his hand over his face, trying to hold back the flood of emotion threatening to force through his ten feet tall brick wall, “Okay,” he nods, “Okay.”

“Thank you. I just… I want a piece of this place with me, always,” Cas says, looking away and gazing at the forest he’s come to call home. 

Dean nods, he understands. This place was their heaven in a life filled with so much pain and sickness, it’s only right that Cas take a little of heaven with him.

They continue on down the little path and Cas takes in everything around him. He memorizes the design of moss on the trees, their bent shapes and how they sway slightly like they are dancing in the wind. He gazes at the way the light changes the colors of the leaves to a lighter hue than their original color and how Dean’s face glows, highlighting every freckle sprinkled across his cheeks. He memorizes the beauty of this place, of Dean and the way he feels about Dean. He wants to remember everything. He hopes that in heaven – if there really is a heaven – he will be able to remember all the things he loved most on earth. Heaven would be a pretty shitty place if memories of one’s previous life are forgotten.

The path widens and the trees open up into the small clearing, the ocean off in the distance, waves crashing loudly against the sand. Cas feels the tears on his cheeks before he even registers that they are there. He reaches up and wipes them with the sleeve of his trench coat, but they still fall. Dean pushes him up until he is a few feet away from the edge of the cliff, as close to the ocean and the sunset as possible. Cas places the small bouquet of flowers on his lap and reaches for Dean’s hand. Dean moves to stand next to him and gently takes Cas’s hand. He clasps their hands together, his warm hand within Cas’s slightly colder one. Dean looks over at him, watching Cas’s face light up as the sun starts to dip beneath the horizon.

“Dean,” Cas breathes, “Look!”

A few clouds stretch across the horizon, puffy and white. The sun slides beneath them, turning their pure whiteness to a dark purple. Bright golden orange strips of light shine above the violet clouds, reflecting on the waves. Dean doesn't watch the sunset, he to watches Cas.

Cas’s lips curve up into a magnificent grin, shining brighter than the sun setting before them. He’s the most beautiful thing Dean has ever seen. Cas is still crying, tears sparkling in the glow, sliding down his cheeks and onto his coat. Dean’s crying now too, he’s not ready to let go.

As the sun falls further beneath the clouds, the orange sky changes to a fiery red, darkening the purple clouds and sending streaks of red and orange shooting in every direction. Dean squeezes Cas’s hand, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. Cas laughs through his tears, reaching up to cup Dean’s face in his hands, staring into his eyes for a few seconds and then he kisses him 

The light is fading now, purple changing to black, red darkening and dissolving into the starry sky. Cas gives the falling sun one last long glance then turns back to Dean.

“Dean, I just want to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything,” Cas answers, with a small shrug and the hint of a smile on his face.

Dean stares at him, not knowing what to say – what do you say to that? He steps forward, kneels down and presses his forehead to Cas’s.

“No, no, thank _you_ , for everything,” Dean says, kissing Cas’s cheek.

Cas’s eyes slam shut and a sob wracks his body. Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s shoulders and pulls him into this chest, holding him there until Cas pulls away, shivering slightly.

“It’s time to go back,” he says calmly, eyes focusing on Dean’s.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, placing a hand on Cas’s shoulder.

Cas nods slowly, “Yes, but I am tired, very tired.”

“Let’s get you home,” Dean replies, rising to his feet and turning Cas’s wheelchair, beginning to push him back down along the path towards the cabin. The forest is nearly silent, all of the animals in their respective homes for the evening. The owl has awakened, hooting nearby echoing throughout the trees. Castiel lays back in his chair, closing his eyes and breathing slowly, letting the cool night air wash over his face. He can feel a darkness surrounding him, but he’s not afraid, it’s peaceful and calming. He doesn’t have much time left.

When they reach the cabin, the ebb of darkness relinquishes its hold on him a bit. Dean helps him back up the steps and wheels him into their bedroom. Cas removes his coat and hat, falling into bed with a happy sigh. He needed to go see the sunset one last time, but his bed is a welcoming relief. Dean wheels the chair over to the side of the room and comes back to Cas’s side, pulling the blankets up around him. Dean grabs one of the chairs in the room and slides it up next to the bedside. He takes Cas’s hand underneath the covers.

“Do you want me to call Anna?” Dean asks slowly.

Cas shakes his head, “No… not yet. Call her tomorrow morning, Sam and Jess too. I want to sleep right now.”

Dean nods, releasing Cas’s hand and standing up, moving to leave the room so Cas can get some sleep, but Cas reaches out and grabs his fingers.

“Don’t leave,” Cas rushes out, clinging to Dean’s fingers, “Can you… can you just hold me for a while?”

Dean turns back around, fingers tangling with Cas’s, “Of course.”

Dean walks around to the other side of the bed, toeing off his shoes and climbing into bed. He scoots over to Cas, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling Cas’s back against his chest. Cas’s fingers nudge at Dean’s where they rest on his stomach and Dean lifts them up so Cas can slot their hands together. Dean smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Cas’s neck.

“Get some sleep,” Dean whispers, waiting a few seconds for Cas to respond, but Cas is already out like a light, breathing deep and even.

“I love you,” Dean whispers again, kissing his cheek before closing his eyes and trying to doze off for a few hours.

Dean wakes up to light streaming in through the window, casting shadows across the room. He shifts in the bed, Cas is still in his arms and asleep. Dean runs his hand up Cas’s arm, almost jolting away at how cool Cas’s skin is.

“Cas?” Dean tries, panicking. Dean can hear him breathing, but for some reason that’s not calming him any.

“Mmmmm?” Cas murmurs softly, hands moving slowly up to press against Dean’s. His hands are colder than the rest of his body, and it’s not good. In the light dancing across Cas’s face, Dean can see a light blue tint on his skin, not good at all.

“I’ll be right back okay?” Dean says, urgency in his voice, releasing Cas from his arms and bounding out of bed to run into the kitchen.

He grabs the phone off of the hook and quickly dials Anna’s number, tapping his foot impatiently while it rings. She picks up on the third ring.

“Dean?” She says groggily into the phone.

“It’s Cas I think… I think it’s time.”

Anna gasps into the phone and there’s a rustling noise. Dean is sure she’s probably scrambling to get clothes on.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Then the line goes dead with a click. Dean calls Sam next, voice trembling over the phone as he tells him Cas is going to die soon, probably today. Sam says they are leaving right now and hangs up, leaving Dean standing alone in the kitchen, shaking from trying not to cry. Dean takes in a deep, heavy breath and walks quickly back into the bedroom.

Cas is awake now, sitting up in bed, blinking slowly, “Dean, it’s cold, do we have any more blankets?”

“Yep, I’ll get you some.”

He looks so sick, big bags under his eyes, extremely thin, bony hands resting on top of the blankets. Dean opens up one of the drawers and pulls out a few more blankets, spreading them across the bed and wrapping one around Cas’s shoulders.

“Is that better?” Dean asks, hand lingering on Cas’s shoulder.

“Much, can I have some water too?” Cas asks.

Dean nods, crossing the room and going into the bathroom. He fills a glass of water up at the sink and places it on the nightstand next to Cas. Cas reaches over, picking up the glass with shaking hands and takes a long drink.

“Do you need anything else?” Dean asks, ready to go get whatever or whoever Cas needs.

Cas smiles softly, patting his hand, “No, just you.”

Dean sits down on the chair, wiping away a tear that slides down his cheek, he takes Cas’s hand, holding it tightly in his own.

“Dean,” Cas starts.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to die today.”

Dean’s eyes slam shut a few more tears trickling down his cheeks, “I know,” He chokes out.

Cas reaches out and gently cups Dean’s cheek, “Please don’t cry, you’ve made the last few months of my life wonderful and I wouldn’t trade anything for that in a million years.”

“I don’t want you to die,” Dean manages to get out, brokenly.

“I don’t want to go, but I’ll be waiting for you,” Cas says softly.

“I’ll try not to take too long,” Dean promises, “After all, if I take too long you will drive the angels crazy from talking about me all the time,” He adds.

Cas huffs out a laugh, “Well we certainly don’t want that, I might get kicked out of heaven.”

Dean stares at him, eyes crinkling as tears continue to fall down his cheeks. It’s strange to be joking about this, but death for the both of them is inevitable so if there is a way to lighten the mood, they are going to do it. Cas smiles slightly, glancing down at their joined hands.

“I don’t want to die,” Cas admits quietly. “I’m not afraid of death. I’ve had time to prepare for this but I’m not ready to leave you. We didn’t get enough time.” Cas pauses, looking into Dean’s eyes in that soul-staring way of his, “But I am thankful for the time we did get.”

“Me too,” Dean replies leaning in and leaving a lingering kiss on Cas’s cheek.

Anna arrives twenty minutes later, zooming into the driveway and bursting into the bedroom. She freezes when she sees Cas sitting up in bed, alive and well. Anna breathes a sigh of relief, falling against the door.

“I made it,” she breathes. Anna goes over to the other side of Cas’s bed and kisses his forehead, frowning at the slight blue tint of his skin. She pulls up a chair and plops down, resting her hand on Cas’s lower arm as a comforting presence. They talk idly for a while, Anna and Dean distracting themselves and Cas from the fact that with every minute his health is deteriorating. Sam and Jess show up a half hour after Anna and come into the crowded bedroom to give Cas two long, teary-eyed hugs. They exit the room soon after, departing to the living room to give Dean and Anna some more time with Cas. Anna requests a few minutes alone with her brother and Dean obviously consents, though a bit reluctant to leave just in case anything happens. But he does leave making sure to give Cas a long kiss before leaving and retreating to the comfort of his brother.

Jess gives Dean a big hug when he gets out to the living room. “I’m so sorry,” she says genuinely and Dean only nods numbly, unsure of what to say or do. Sam pulls him into another hug, all-consuming and grounding. It takes every fiber of strength left in Dean to not breakdown. He stays strong and hugs Sam back.

“I’m here for you,” is all Sam says and Dean just nods, “I know.”

They all sit down on the couch, talking for a few minutes about nothing in particular, but then Dean slowly starts to check out. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, off in his own little world thinking constantly about Cas. Dean honestly doesn’t know how he is going to handle Cas dying. He’s known Cas was going to die since the moment they saw each other again in the cancer support meeting, but somehow despite knowing and trying to prepare himself for this ahead of time, he still feels like he’s drowning. His throat feels dry, his chest is tight and an overwhelming sense of despair looms over him like an angry black cloud that he can’t push away no matter how hard he tries.

After ten minutes, twenty minutes – Dean lost count - Anna peeks her head around the corner of the door and motions for Dean to come back in. He immediately rises and goes back into the bedroom, sitting down at Cas’s side. Cas looks worse. His skin an unearthly mix of pale white and blue and he looks tired, really fucking tired. He’s dying so fast, he shouldn’t be dying this fast. Dean gulps, a rush of panic jolting through him, there’s so much he hasn’t said.

“Hey Anna, can I talk to him for a bit?”

Anna smiles softly, “Of course, let me know when you’re done.” She exits the room quietly leaving Dean and Cas alone.

Dean and Cas stare at each other for a few seconds in silence. Dean takes a deep breath in and gives him a weak smile, “Hey Cas.”

Cas smiles brightly back at him, “Hello Dean.”

Dean’s smile widens because of how happy Cas is to see him. Cas still looks so happy even when at death’s door.

“Can… can I tell you something?” Dean asks.

“Of course.”

Dean runs his fingers over the pad of Cas’s hand, trying to find the right words.

“I don’t… I don’t really know how to say any of this and sometimes I’m bad at telling you how I feel but… I guess I just need you to know that you saved me.”

Dean glances up, gauging Cas’s reaction and is surprised to see shock etched into his face.

“I saved you?”

Dean nods, fingers slotting against Cas’s. “Even when we were just two teenagers you were always there, you gave me hope and loved me more than I ever deserved. This summer when I saw you at the meeting I thought I was dreaming and you were some kind of angel and I was going to wake up at any second. It didn’t seem possible that somehow we found each other again. But it was really you and I’d missed you so much, Cas. I missed you so goddamn much.”

Cas lets out a choked sob and Dean pauses, wiping a tear off of his cheek with his thumb.

“Even though we only got a few months, they were the best months of my life. You mean everything to me and I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you,” Cas says softly, free hand slowly reaching up to caress Dean’s cheek. “I love you.” He leans in and kisses him, pressing his forehead against Dean’s.

Every word Dean said Cas wants to say back, this summer was the best time of his life, but his voice is strangled and throat too dry to speak. But Dean already knows how Cas feels, he’s always known. Cas squeezes their joined hands and takes in a shaky breath. He doesn’t feel good, he wants to sleep. His head feel light and he keeps seeing black spots in his vision.

“Dean,” Cas says weakly, “I think you should go get everyone. I… I feel like I might pass out.”

Dean leaves and comes back with Sam, Jess and Anna. They all crowd around Cas’s bed, giving him one last hug, saying good-bye. He’s not gone yet, but once he’s comatose he will be able to hear them, but won’t be able to talk back. Now is their only chance to say good-bye. Anna’s hug lingers, tears falling from her eyes onto her brother’s shirt, darkening the fabric with tiny spots. Cas is crying when she pulls away.

Dean says good-bye last and it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He’s not crying, he doesn’t even have tears in his eyes, the dam has been put up and he’s not ready to release it, not yet. Cas is laying down, a few pillows propped up under his head, eyes half-open and watery from the tears threatening to spill out. Dean kneels beside Cas, staring into his blue eyes one last time. He reaches down and takes Cas’s hand in his like he has thousands of times before. His fingers slip in between Cas’s intertwining together. Cas gives him a sad smile.

“I’ll be here with you until the end okay? I know you won’t be able to see me but I’ll talk to you and you listen, just listen to my voice.”

Cas nods, a few tears sliding down his cheeks, “I will.”

Dean leans in and kisses him one last time. Their lips lingering together, soft and gentle. Dean treasures these precious few moments, memorizing the feeling of Cas’s lips against his. He doesn’t want to forget.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Dean says, lips twitching up into a tearful smile.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Cas looks around at his family, Dean, Anna, Sam, and Jess with a tiny little smile on his face. His life may not have been the most magnificent, but he can say that he was loved. His eyes start sliding shut and he can feel himself going into a deep sleep. The last thing he sees is Dean and then everything goes black.

Dean clings to Cas’s hand like lifeline. Anna is across from Dean, Jess sitting next to her and Sam is next to Dean. Cas’s breathing has changed now, rapidly decreasing from a breath every five seconds to every ten seconds and then once a minute. Dean talks, telling Cas funny stories or happy memories of the adventures they had with Sam as children. He never stops talking, he wants to make sure Cas knows that he is there and Cas isn’t alone. There’s nothing much else he can do but make his passing as easy and peaceful as possible. Dean hums too, one specific song. Cas never really like Led Zeppelin as much as Dean did but there was one song that he always loved, Fool In The Rain. Maybe it was because Dean told him so many years ago, while they were sitting by the edge of the river in Lawrence that this song reminded him of Cas. Dean doesn’t know for sure if that’s why Cas loved the song so much he just hopes that it makes Cas happy.

\------

In the mid-afternoon, on September 18th during the sunniest part of the day Castiel takes his last breath. Dean checks his pulse about ten times just to be sure; he doesn’t want to believe it. They all look at Dean with wide eyes, waiting and when Dean nods slowly, Anna starts sobbing, getting up and running from the room. Jess hurries after her. Sam places his hand on Dean’s shoulder, but Dean doesn’t even notice. He’s staring at Cas numb and frozen in place. Cas’s hand still inside his.

“Dean?” Sam tries gently after a few minutes.

“Yeah?”

“You shouldn’t be in here with him, it’s just… gonna hurt you more.”

“Don’t.”

“But Dean…”

Dean closes his eyes, shrugging off Sam’s hand, “Just… leave me, Sam please.”

The next few days Dean wanders around the small cabin in a daze, pacing around the house, sitting on the couch for hours on end staring blankly out at the window. The bedroom door remains closed. After the coroner removed Cas’s body and took him to the local funeral home to prepare his body for burial, Dean moved everything out of the drawers and closets, stuffing his and Cas’s things in small boxes littered around the living room. He wouldn’t go back in there, he couldn’t go back in there at least not for a while. He sleeps on the couch now. Sam lives with him for the time being, until he’s sure Dean is stable enough to live by himself 

Cas’s funeral is today, in a few hours, and Dean is still in his pajamas. Sam hands him his suit, the same suit he wore to Sam’s wedding and tells him he needs to get ready. Dean grudgingly obeys; he has no fight left in him to bicker with Sam about what he’s going to wear to the love of his life’s funeral.

The well-tailored suit feels all wrong on his body, too tight, too confining and way too fancy. Dean adjusts his tie, making sure it is turned backwards just like how Cas used to wear his and stares at his reflection in the mirror. He looks good, neat. Dean hates wearing suits, but Cas would want this. Cas’s suit is also the one he wore to Sam’s wedding, he didn’t have any others. He also has on that big dumb trench coat. Dean never understood why Cas loved that damn coat so much, but he wanted to be buried in it and Dean couldn’t not honor Cas’s wishes.

Dean runs his fingers through his hair, trying to look at least somewhat presentable and not like he just rolled out of bed. Sam tells him he’s depressed and Dean thinks he’s probably right, dying of cancer and the loss of a loved one are a dangerous combination. Dean leaves the bathroom and walks into the kitchen where Sam stands outfitted in his own suit, throwing up his hands.

“Do I look okay?”

Sam nods, taking a few steps forward and fixes Dean’s collar, “You look great.”

“Is it time?” Dean asks, glancing down at his wristwatch 

Sam nods, “Yeah, I asked everyone to wait outside so you could get ready in peace.”

Dean smiles slightly, “Thanks Sammy, I appreciate it.”

“You ready?” Sam asks.

Dean grabs Cas’s wildflowers out of the vase he put them in a few days ago so they wouldn’t wilt.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to do this.” 

Sam frowns sympathetically. He wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulder and together they walk outside. Anna and Jess are on the front porch, both clad in neat, black dresses talking to Gabriel and Balthazar, two of Cas’s many older brothers who Dean hasn’t seen since he was a teenager. Jo and Benny are standing at the bottom of the stairs along with the pastor. The hearse is backed up to the edge of the dirt path and the sight of it causes Dean’s throat to clench up. Cas is in there.  He almost runs back in the house and heaves his breakfast into the toilet. Sam’s arm tightens around Dean’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Dean says to no one in particular, nodding slowly, trying to get ahold of himself.

He steps down to the ground and shakes the pastor’s hand solemnly. The pastor gives him the courteous, “I’m sorry for your loss.” It seems fake, overly practiced, a phrase that’s been said thousands of times that eventually lost its meaning. Dean thanks him politely, it was the right thing to do. He ignores the pitying looks he receives from everyone around him. It’s great and all that they feel bad for him but he wishes that they would stop focusing on him, this is about Cas not him. Dean continues walking, the gravel crunching underneath his shoes. Sam is still beside him a comforting hand on his shoulder the entire time. Dean doesn’t know what he would do without him.

The funeral director stands beside the hearse, waiting. Dean nods at him, face expressionless. The doors of the hearse are opened and Cas’s coffin is pulled out. Dean reaches up and trails his fingers across the smooth wood. A choking sob leaves his lips and he turns, burying his face in Sam’s suit jacket. He can’t do this, he can’t fucking do this.

“Sir, are you alright?” The funeral director asks. _No, of course he’s not fucking alright._

“I’m fine,” Dean says, taking a few shaky breaths and removing himself from Sam. He moves to the front of the coffin, gripping the first handle. Anna is on the opposite side of him, tears streaking her face. Sam is behind Dean, then Jess. Balthazar and Gabriel are behind Anna. Dean’s not supposed to lift anything, but he doesn’t care, he lifts as much as he can and Sam takes the weight Dean can’t manage.  In unison they all lift at the same time and begin walking down the narrow dirt path, Benny, Jo, the pastor and funeral director following.

When Cas had first started talking about dying and where he was going to be buried, Dean expected him to say he wanted to be buried in a family plot somewhere. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Dean doesn’t know when Cas decided that he wanted to be buried on their little piece of land overlooking the ocean, but he did. This place, this heaven of theirs where they only got to live together for two months was where Cas wanted to spend eternity.

The grave is already dug, a six foot deep, dark hole in the ground. Waves crash hundreds of feet beneath them and the sun is shining brilliantly overhead.

 _It’s beautiful out, Cas would’ve loved to come out here on a day like today_ , Dean thinks.

He places Cas’s bouquet on top of the coffin and steps away, clasping his hands in front of him, squeezing them together tightly, the pressure the only thing keeping him on his feet. The others crowd around, creating a semi-circle, listening as the pastor begins to talk. Dean says a few words, he doesn’t know what he says really. He says the stereotypical things he assumes most people say when their soul mate dies.

He doesn’t tell them how Cas’s smile was the sun in his world, how the warmth of his hand and the soft press of his lips kept him breathing and alive and that without Cas he would’ve died months ago. He doesn’t tell them that he did everything to give Cas the world in his last few months, that he would’ve done anything to make him happy.  He doesn’t tell them that when Cas would make love to him, slow and gentle, reminding him of how beautiful he is, how Dean would fucking lose it and whimper in Cas’s arms, wondering how the hell he got so lucky to be loved by an angel.

Dean turns away when they lower Cas’s body into the ground; it’s just too much to handle. Anna joins him, a few feet away from the grave, grabbing his hand. They watch the white caps far out on the sea and hold onto each other for comfort. There is a small gathering after the service that Sam and Jess arranged. Dean didn’t care if they had one or not, it was insignificant to him. He doesn’t want to stay so he tells Sam he’s leaving for a while. He gets into the impala and drives.

He doesn’t have a specific destination other than anywhere away from San Francisco. There are too many memories there. He blasts the radio, rolls down all the windows and drives out towards Napa Valley. Windy roads surrounded by crisscrossing vineyards stretch out in front of him. He drives until the numbness in his soul washes away and is replaced by an ache so strong he can’t hold in his emotions anymore. Dean pulls off to the side of the road next to a vineyard. He slams the car into park, his head falling into his hands and he starts to sobs. He bangs his fists on the steering wheel and screams until he’s hoarse, he doesn’t care if anyone can hear him. Dean rips off his tie, angrily throwing it into the empty passenger seat. He’s hysterical and if someone drives by and sees him they will probably call the cops. Let ‘em.

Dean has been so strong, keeping everything in, trying to prove to everyone that he is okay when in reality, he is the furthest thing from okay. His soul hurts, constantly a sharp stinging pain like someone took a chainsaw and tore through him, leaving him in a thousand pieces and no way to be healed. Dean clenches the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, cursing a god he doesn’t even know exists for taking Cas from him.

Dean glances over at the empty passenger seat, his discarded tie lays across the plush cushion. It looks so empty without Cas sitting there, his warm hand wrapped tightly within Dean’s, smiling at him in that adorable, innocent way of his. Another burst of sobs wrack Dean’s body and he rests his head against the steering wheel, body shaking uncontrollably. He flicks on the radio to drown out the sound of his own sobbing. The first few notes of Stairway to Heaven drift over the speakers. Dean laughs coldly, _of fucking course this song comes on_. His hand itches to change the song, but for some reason he can’t make himself do it. His hand falls limply to the gear shift and he shifts out of park and turns back onto the road, turning the volume up as loud as he can.

  _There’s a feeling I get when I look to the west,_

_And my spirit is crying for leaving._

_In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees,_

_And the voices of those who stand looking._

_Ooh, it makes me wonder._

_Ooh, it really makes me wonder._

Vineyards fly by Dean in a green blur, he presses down on the gas and pushes the impala to her limits. He passes by Jess’s old house where Sam and Jess got married. Sunlight glints off of the shiny white cottage and the rows of plants in the fields glow from the golden light. He pulls off to the side of the road again, staring at the small clearing which is clear now, but on the day of Sam and Jess’s wedding held a hundred white wicker chairs and family and friends. The memories flash through his mind. Jess walking down the aisle towards Sam, smiling like the sun and his brother standing next to him with a dopey grin on his face and tears in his eyes. Dean remembers glancing over at Cas and feeling his heart skip a beat at the glorious smile on Cas’s face at seeing Sam so happy. Dean remembers dancing with Cas at Sam’s wedding. Cas took his breathing tubes out for one song, so he could dance with Dean just once. Cas’s hands slid around Dean’s hips, Dean’s arms wrapped around his neck. They danced, grinning at each other like two teenagers. When they pulled away, the entire room started clapping and Sam and Jess smiled at them. They kind of stole the show for a moment, but Sam and Jess didn’t mind.

  _Your head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know,_

_The piper’s calling you to join him,_

_Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know,_

_Your stairway lies on the whispering wind?_

Dean turns away from the cottage and his memories, inhaling a shaky breath. He’s been doing good lately – well, as good as one can be with cancer spread throughout their entire body. He wants to keep fighting, but Dean doesn’t think he has any fight left in him. He doesn’t want to give up, that’s just not what he does. But he has a feeling that it won’t be long before he joins Cas in that small spot of land overlooking their stretch of horizon.

He rubs his eyes, wiping away the tears and sniffling. He twists the volume knob on the stereo down a few notches, the guitar solo quiets to a low hum in the background. Resting his elbow on the window, staring out at the hot asphalt, a few more tears slipping down his cheeks; he makes a decision. He knows Cas would want him to make the most of the time he has left. He wants to spend more time with Sam, he _needs_ to spend more time with Sam. Dean knows that losing his brother and one of his best friends in the time of a few months is going to be hell for Sam, the least Dean can do is spend some time sitting out on the porch with his baby brother, talking and drinking beer while watching the sun go down.

Dean shifts the impala into drive, making a U-turn on the narrow road and speeds off towards home.

  _And she’s buying a stairway to heaven._

 ------

A few days after the funeral, Dean’s health starts to decline rapidly, but not before he completes the promise he made to himself. He does sit out on the front porch of the cabin with Sam one evening. They talk about life, memories, drink beer and watch the sun slide down the sky. He savors every second of this evening, it is special to him. Sam is happy, sitting next to him with a content grin on his face, taking slow, easy sips from his bottle of beer.

“You know,” Sam starts, smile falling into a more serious look, fingers rapping lightly against the glass bottle, “I’m so glad you found Cas again.”

Dean looks over at him, face scrunched up in pain at the mention of Cas’s name, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean… I’ve never seen you so happy, Dean. I remember how hard you tried to be happy after Cas left, you tried with Lisa, with Cassie, with Aaron, but there’s was always something missing, I could tell. The way you held them, kissed them, held their hands, you cared about all of them but something was always off. Then I saw you with Cas that day you came to my house a few days after you two found each other again and you had this look of pure happiness on your face and I finally got it. It was always Cas. No matter how hard you tried to move on from him, you never could because he was it for you.”

Dean glances away from Sam out towards the sunset, nodding slowly, “You’re right, he was.” 

“I'm sorry you didn’t get more time with him,” Sam says, looking at Dean.

“Me too. 

There’s a long pause and they both sip at their beers, the sun slips beneath the horizon.

“Are you going to be okay?” Dean asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Without me, are you going to be okay?”

“No,” Sam answers honestly, setting his now empty bottle of beer on the porch. “Not for a while, at least. You’re my big brother, hell you raised me after mom and dad died. When you die it’s going to feel like a part of me is gone. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean chokes out. 

“Why?"

“That I’m dying.”

“Well, it’s not like you can help it.”

Dean shrugs, “I know, I just… I want you to be okay.”

Sam smiles softly, “I will be, eventually.”

\------

The next week passes by in a blur. Dean spends most of his time with Sam, doing stuff they used to when they were teenagers, driving around the bay area eating at cheap diners, watching movies until two in the morning, falling asleep on each other’s shoulders. Dean was worried Jess would be upset with him for stealing her new husband away from her but Dean was more than wrong. Jess knows how important it is for Dean and Sam to spend time together during Dean’s final days, so she is happy to share Sam with Dean when Dean needs him. 

A day after Dean and Sam’s most recent trip to the local diner, Dean wakes up with every single joint in his body hurting and a sharp stabbing pain in his stomach. He doesn’t bother going to the hospital, he already knows their diagnosis, “You are dying Dean, you will be dead in a few days. Say good-bye to your family and friends, make the most of the time you have left.” Sam tells him that he should go to the hospital, but Dean doesn’t see the point, there’s nothing they can do to help him. So he doesn’t go. Instead he lays in bed and lets Sam take care of him.

It’s strange being taken care of. Dean’s not used to this, he’s always the one who takes care of everyone else. Sam is a good nurse, always at Dean’s bedside the moment he needs anything. The days pass and Dean gets out of bed a few times, unable to walk now but Sam wheels him around the small cabin in Cas’s old wheelchair. He’s getting weaker and more tired with every passing minute. Sometimes he’ll press his fingers against his pulse just to make sure his heart is still beating. Sometimes his pulse is so slow he almost cannot feel it.

They are sitting in the living room late in the evening when Dean turns to Sam and asks, “Can you take me somewhere?”

Sam looks over at him and nods, “Sure, where do you want to go?”

“I’d like to see Cas’s grave,” Dean says slowly, the “one last time,” silent but clear in the look he gives Sam.

Sam sucks in a harsh breath in realization of what Dean is actually saying, “Okay, I’ll take you.”

The chilly autumn wind whips around at their backs when they reach the cliff. Sam pushes Dean right up to Cas’s grave. Dean stares at the headstone for a few seconds, he’s seen it every day for the past month, yet it still hits him just as hard every time. Cas is dead. Dean bites his lip and slams his eyes shut.

“Sam, can you… can you give me a minute?”

“Yeah, yeah sure.”

Sam turns and walks back down the path around a small cluster of trees so that Dean can have a moment alone.

Dean waits until Sam is gone before he rolls forward a few feet, reaching out his hand and running the tips of his fingers down the cool marble headstone. A sob rises in his throat and he lets it out in a rush of air, gripping the top of the headstone with his hand. Soon, he’ll be with Cas soon.

Dean opens his eyes, releasing his hand and sits back in the chair. He stares at the still fresh dirt covering Cas’s grave and glances out to the sea, listening to the sound of the crashing waves.

“It’s been a month, I’m sorry I made you wait so long. You won’t have to wait much longer, I promise.”

Dean smiles gently, the wind brushes against his ears and the back of his neck, floating around him in a wave, a sort of presence surrounding him.

“I can’t wait to see you,” Dean says softly, pressing his fingers against the headstone one last time with a lingering look. He will be buried there in a few days, his headstone next to Cas’s. He raises his eyes out to the sea, taking in the ocean meeting the horizon. He breathes deeply in and then out, smiling slightly. He’s at peace. He turns his wheelchair around and wheels back down the path towards Sam.

Sam helps Dean into bed when they return to the cabin, covering him up with a few blankets and bringing him a glass of water. Dean smiles weakly up at him, fatigue quickly taking over his consciousness.

“Thanks Sammy.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jess and Anna are in the room now, finding a place beside Dean’s bed. Sam sits closest, taking Dean’s hand.

“Sam, can you talk to me until I'm gone?” Dean asks, blinking slowly, struggling to stay awake.

Sam gulps, fighting back tears, “Yeah, of course. Tell Cas we said hi.”

Dean huffs out a puny laugh, squeezing Sam’s hand, “I will.”

“I love you,” Sam says and Dean smiles, “I love you too, Sammy.”

Dean slips in and out of consciousness. He hears Sam, Anna and Jess talking to him, and listens. The familiarity of their voices soothes him, until slowly, one by one they fade out and everything turns into darkness and silence.


	8. Epilogue

The first thing Dean sees is white. A bright whiteness so overwhelming he has to slam his eyes shut almost as soon as he opens them. He grunts, shielding his face with his hand and slowly blinks his eyes open again. The pure whiteness is replaced by a green valley, stretching out in front of him to the left and right of Dean as far as he can see. Off in the distance tall, edged mountains loom, dark over the sun-filled valley. He jolts up from where he’s lying in tall, soft grasses that brush against his fingertips and arms. 

“What the hell?” Dean glances around. He’s standing on top of a grassy hill, a few hundred feet above the valley, a winding blue river running through the center. There are no houses or buildings around, only trees, tall grasses spotted with daisies and mountains. He has no idea where he is, he thought he was dying. At least, he had been a few minutes ago. Dean freezes, realization suddenly dawning upon him. This must be heaven.

Dean furrows his brow, glancing down at his body. He isn’t wearing his pajamas anymore, he is wearing what he always wore, jeans, a band t-shirt and his leather jacket. He isn’t tired anymore either. Dean feels awake, rejuvenated even. He presses a hand against his stomach, feeling through the cotton of his t-shirt for the scar of his incision the doctors stitched up after they removed his tumor. It’s gone. Dean grins, smacking his hand on his thigh in excitement, letting out a whoop. He’s completely healed, his body brand-spanking new and healthy, finally he’s healthy! Dean pauses, grin falling from his face. If he’s in heaven, where’s Cas? Surely God can’t be that much of a jerk that he would keep them separated in the afterlife. Dean starts walking forward down the hill, glancing around, looking for him.

“Cas?” Dean calls out, voice echoing, shooting out in every direction, bouncing against the mountains. He scrambles down the hill, feet sliding in the dirt, grasping fistfuls of grass to steady himself.

“Cas?!” Dean yells again, louder this time. He’s beginning to panic, a feeling of dread slowly starting to rise in his body. What if Cas isn’t here and he’s trapped in this place all alone forever?

“Dean!” A voice shouts from off to Dean’s right and his heart starts beating again. He starts running in the direction of Cas’s voice, pushing his way through the grass desperately. 

“Cas!” Dean yells, running faster when he sees Cas’s smiling face through the grass a few hundred feet away. He looks good, so fucking good. His hair has grown back and his oxygen tubes are gone. He no longer needs help to breathe. He has that dumb fucking trench coat on and the sight of it draped around his shoulders drags a bubbling laugh from Dean’s throat. A grin bursts onto Dean’s face as the distance between them closes.

They run into each other’s arms, clutching each other. Cas’s arms wrap around him, clinging to Dean and burying his face in Dean’s shirt. 

“Dean,” Cas breathes, breath warm against Dean’s neck. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean says softly, fingers sliding through Cas’s hair, down his arm and across his back. Cas is here and they’re in heaven together.

“I missed you,” Cas says, pulling away and staring into Dean’s eyes.

“I missed you too. You look good,” Dean grins, pressing a kiss to Cas’s cheek.

Cas’s eyes slide shut for a moment, savoring the feel of Dean’s lips against his skin. He opens his eyes, bright blue and sparkling like the stars, “So do you.” 

They stare at each other, gazes lingering, taking the time to re-memorize every curve and line on each other’s faces. 

“Where are we?” Dean asks, suddenly. 

Cas chuckles, “Heaven of course.” 

“Well I _know_ that I mean, what part of heaven?” 

“The entrance. I figured I’d wait for you here until you arrived. There was nothing for me on the inside anyway,” Cas answers, hand sliding down Dean’s arm to his hand and their fingers tangling together sending an electrical current rushing through Dean’s body. 

“I’m sorry I took so long.” 

Cas smiles, “It’s alright, you are well worth the wait.”

Cas’s fingers stroke Dean’s cheek. He leans in and captures Dean’s lips in his own, kissing him with more love than Dean ever knew existed. When Cas pulls away, his hand falls into Dean’s, intertwining their fingers. He tugs on Dean’s hand, pulling him down towards the valley.

“Where are we going?” Dean asks. He matches pace with Cas’s steps as they walk through the golden grasses, swishing in the wind. 

“Home.”


End file.
